A Father of Honor
by KiahTrickster
Summary: The winds of change are blowing through the garrison as the regiment transitions old friends, and questionable acquaintances return. A sinister plot is revealed defying the very freedoms honorable men had fought and died for; trying to send the emerging nation back into a very dark time. One moment takes it from a matter of honor to King's business. Set after a Soldier of Diplomacy
1. Chapter 1

The winds of change are blowing through the garrison, but as the regiment transitions old friends, and questionable acquaintances return. A sinister plot is revealed defying the very freedoms honorable men had fought and died for; trying to send the emerging nation back into a very dark time. And a chance encounter takes it from a matter of honor to King's business and the musketeers respond with all they have.

 **Disclaimer: All my stories are written for fun, no copyright infringement intended. Recognizable characters belong to the respective writers and producers.**

 **This is the third installment in Treville and Maggie's story. It does not follow the series past the 8** **th** **episode of season 1.**

 **A Father of Honor**

Tonight, Treville stood on a balcony with a very different view. It had taken only a matter of days to arrange a business agreement with Rylan, but six months before he had been able to bring his family here and make it a reality; even for a few days.

The decrepit manor house had ben razed and in its place stood a new stable and corral. What was once the servants house had been renovated and would someday be their family home. A part of him knew that was still a few years out, but it was a step in the right direction.

Especially given the Queen was expecting again, her first pregnancy had been difficult and this one was no different. He knew he had been lucky with Maggie, that their daughter had been born healthy and his wife survived. He was content whether they had another child or not, Maggie's soft heart had already found one orphan that had become theirs.

He would say nothing if she found a whole pack of orphans to care for, but he needed his wife and his daughter needed her mama. He didn't care about having a son, he had already made arrangements to leave everything to his daughter. This place would be hers someday, and he would see it put in order for her before he was gone.

It was hard to imagine this place as his home, he had spent his whole life in Paris, most of it soldiering. He wasn't quite sure what to do with himself out here; even just for a week. There were many things that needed his attention, but it was a whole different world.

The balcony here looked out over rolling hills in one direction and down to the stable and river in the other. A stark difference from the garrison training yard. It was so quiet out here, the night sounds were of birds cooing and the wind, rather than rowdy men and swords clashing.

He slipped back into the new house again, it was bigger than anywhere he had lived before; though Maggie assured him when they were here it would not be more than she could manage. Treville was thankful for that, he did not want servants in his home; he had already hired a housekeeper to come in while they were away.

There was a certain appeal to the privacy the estate yielded. No one banging on the door or reporting in from assignment at all hours of the night or drinking in the yard below. Their nearest neighbors were the small village that lived on their land, working it for Rylan.

Treville had drawn up the contract to lease the land to his brother in law, the boy was responsible for running it, but Treville figured that in time he would pick up some of the trade himself. After so many years of managing the garrison he could wrap his head around business; though he was not ready to give up the familiar either.

Gradually the position of Captain of the Musketeers would be ceded to Athos, his duties revolved more and more around the palace and the King's business. It still fit him a little like a bad coat, he was still most at home in the garrison, and didn't intend to give up his position until Athos was ready, and he was sure he was done.

He stooped to add wood to the fire before climbing the stairs to join his wife in bed, the bedrooms were all on the second level. The master bedroom was farthest from the stairs, he had looked at it before putting their things in the one at the top of the stairs. Old habits would never die, he would be between his family and any access point to them.

The room wasn't as big, but it was comfortable, Jeanne Claire's crib sat under the window and Maggie slept soundly on the wide bed. Marc was tucked comfortably into the next room. As he sat on the edge of the bed Maggie rolled towards him, her warm hand sliding up his back. "Can you sleep?"

"In time." He stretched out beside her, the time away would be good for both of them.

They had left Paris around noon this morning, travelling by carriage it was evening before they reached the estate. It had been a difficult journey for Maggie as Jeanne Claire had fussed most of the way, the roads had not been the best and the jarring ride upset their toddler. He'd had Marc on the bench, teaching the boy a little of handling the horse.

Maggie had spent nearly every day at the palace of late, with the Queen's child due later this year he had decided to take his family away for a time before he wasn't able to. With two royal children he had a feeling Maggie and Constance would be relied upon even more. And Maggie feared for her friend, the first delivery had not been easy and the second might not be any better.

On his end negotiations with Spain had been seriously hindered by the collapse of Richelieu's spy network, something he knew the Cardinal was working hard to rebuild. He had another idea on how to move things along and they were awaiting the response. The idea had come from his wife, like Maggie the Queen was the oldest of her siblings and his wife had told her upon their mother's death the young royal had taken on their care to the degree the young ones sometimes called her mama.

A boy wouldn't forget that, Rylan certainly hadn't, and he had watched Maggie and her brother together in times of stress. When he was afraid that boy wanted nothing more than to crawl into his sister's arms; where he knew he would be safe. The King of Spain might be a monarch, and a powerful man but Treville was willing to be his love for his sister was a powerful force; especially if they were to see each other face to face after more than a decade. The Queen had left Spain at the tender age of thirteen, while she regularly wrote her family she had not been able to see any of them.

Treville had convinced the King to send a missive, inviting the royal to France to discuss the matters of state between their two countries; if necessary they would meet at a neutral location near the border. He was hoping however that the Spanish King could be persuaded to come to Paris, to his sister's home and spend some time with her.

He had a feeling he could persuade the man he didn't want to go to war, the King had only taken over from his own father a few years ago. He had not gone to war before, he didn't know the expense, or the destruction war could bring, raiding parties was a drop in a river at what an outright war would be. The young King needed the same assurances that Louis had needed years ago when his marriage and throne was still new.

Spain was not the power base it once was, and France was not as weak as civil and religious war had left it decades ago. He would sue for peace, it was best for both nations as both were dealing with their own rebellions and civil war was not a thing only of the past.

Treville hadn't realized he drifted off, but woke when he couldn't feel Maggie beside him. Sitting up he sighed, he was used to their bed, it was narrow, and he could always feel his wife, quite often her knees and elbows but he liked that. She had rolled away, and sprawled out, he breathed a sigh of relief, glancing to the window, the first hints of light just creeping over the horizon.

Rolling over he invaded her space and settled down again, he wanted to ride the property lines today and go down to the village to introduce himself. The people were poor, and had been left to fend for themselves a long time but he didn't want to continue that way. They worked hard and had carved out their lives here, he might not know how to do their work, but he knew how to give them some stability and security.

He woke next to Jeanne Claire chattering, and rolled over to see her standing in her crib, ready for someone to come and pick her up. With a chuckle he complied, bringing her back to their bed and sitting her in between them, Maggie rolled over with a groan. Blue eyes were still bleary with sleep as their daughter clapped happily. "Up Mama."

"You had just had to." Maggie sighed before smiling at their daughter. "Not yet baby."

Maggie crawled out of bed rather slowly and changed before returning to the bed for Jeanne Claire, as she took the little girl downstairs Treville dressed and headed down to the stables. Right now there was only his horse in the stall, in time he would have to accumulate a bit more livestock.

He tended his team, moving the animal he intended to ride today out to the cross ties and brushed him down while he ate. When the animal had been curried Treville returned to the house for his own breakfast, Jeanne Claire greeted him gleefully as she collided with his knees.

Walking was still new to her and while she loved it she often tumbled to a stop. Stripping off his coat he crossed to the table where Maggie was setting out a meal, and Marc was carefully placing the dishes.

"How long will you be gone today? I can pack you a meal to take with you." Maggie flitted about before finally joining them at the table.

"I will be back for the noon meal." It was strange to think that Maggie and the children would be alone here while he was gone, when he did not know the villagers or the landscape it made him uncomfortable. He never gave a second thought to leaving her at the garrison, if the regiment was away there were still veterans and cadets around.

However, that meant he would need to move this morning. He ate quickly before heading out to tack the horse. Rylan had already begun using the land, and the boundaries were clearly marked. Treville mounted and headed towards the river, the river was the southern boundary of his property.

There was not much cover along the southern property line, from the house he had a clear view of anyone approaching or crossing the river. The eastern land was rougher terrain, rocky hills and steep slopes. As he rode north towards Rylan's estate there were several roads coming in to the estate, smooth and well used Treville paused, the two properties were still distinctly divided by a hedge grow; that was good.

Roads mapped this main portion of the estate, his horse cantered easily along a road near the property line, people already worked in the fields. He came down into the village, it buzzed with activity though he saw very few men.

It made sense that the men had already gone to work, Treville realized he should have brought Maggie; these women would tell her far more than him. He noted that though the community was a reasonable size there was only one well on the north corner. In theory much of their water could come from the river, but even that was a hike.

Treville stopped to water his horse and was not impressed with the layout, there was no shelter here and the wind could whip through here. It wasn't well built, and he considered the view some took on the lower caste; the previous owner may not have considered the village to be a sound expense.

The sun was high above him, and he decided to turn back to the house, he didn't want to keep Maggie waiting. As he turned back towards the road leading to the house a woman approached the horse. "Are you the Captain?"

He frowned, it wasn't often that he was referred to as the Captain by many; only his men. Most followed the King's lead and referred to him as minister. It had taken time to adjust to that, but most of his duties revolved around the palace now as he eased the Captaincy in Athos' direction. "Yes."

"There was a woman here looking for you some days ago. We sent her to Monsieur Antoniou." The woman explained.

"Thank you, I will speak to him." It was odd that anyone would come here looking for him; few even knew he owned it.

Curious about that he considered riding up to Rylan's home after lunch, until his own came into view; a horse tied out front. Treville smiled to himself, so the young man had come down to see his sister. He stopped to put his horse in the stable and brush the animal down before heading up to the house.

He found Rylan and Maggie sitting at the kitchen table, Jeanne Claire cradled in her mother's lap. His daughter let out a gleeful squeal and pushed herself up on Maggie's knees as she saw him. He hung his things by the door and crossed the room to wash up.

"Maggie was telling me about the trip out, she said you were riding the property line this morning." Rylan turned to him as Maggie rose, as he dried his hands she passed their child over.

"I did." He sat, folding Jeanne Claire into his lap as Maggie went to the stove. "I hear someone was asking after me?"

The young man frowned. "Not to my knowledge. But we've been busy running irrigation ditches. I will verify that no one came to the house."

"Not important." He would sort that out later, Maggie was preparing to serve the meal.

Marc came scrambling down the stairs, a small carving knife in hand when Maggie called him. Gently he reminded the boy to wash before coming to the table, Marc was working hard to pick up the trick to woodwork, it was one Treville did not have; but many of the men had told the child his father had it. And so, the boy was determined to learn.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Jean could not be idle, he was used to the garrison, and the palace; working long hard days with constant interruptions. Maggie thought this trip was doing him more good than he knew, though he remained somewhat restless. She could see a life here, a life where he was not stressed and exhausted every day and he could putter about working on the list of projects he was already building.

They had been here only three days and it seemed as though her husband walked taller and easier, he went riding somewhere or other each day, familiarizing himself with the property and workings of it. He had gone down to personally introduce himself to the village, and when Maggie slipped down later she learned that action had meant something to the people there.

He knew about leading, about commanding respect but also earning it. He was already considering whether or not to steal half her root cellar for an armoury, Maggie didn't intend to fight him too much on that; his practicality made her smile.

As she finished a batch of bread she heard his boots on the step, and her daughter's excited chatter. Turning to see a small green bundle tottering towards her papa, he scooped her up and gave her a little toss before settling her on his hip. She adored him, he had an easy way with Jeanne Claire and Marc, he was firm with the boy but already the young boy wanted to follow in his father's footsteps and saw his surrogate father as the role model to copy.

Maggie expected her own greeting as he entered and glanced back when it didn't come. Jean had stopped and stood at the large bay windows that had been built during the remodel. He stood looking down towards the river, his back had straightened, and she could nearly see the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

Before she could go to him he turned and handed Jeanne Claire to her, heading for the door. Maggie looked out at his view, it was only a woman approaching on foot, it could be one of the women returning from the river. She watched as Jean strode towards her, Maggie could see that there was something different about this woman. She carried herself with the grace and confidence of nobility, even though she walked up hill alone; she expected to be recognized. Was it some distant relative? Or someone from his past?

…

Ninon De Larroque, the woman had been ordered to go far from Paris and live a quiet life. Now she was here, and he would wager she was the woman who had been looking for him. But why, the world believed her dead, the Cardinal had long since seized and spent her assets. While he sympathised with her loss, aware that the most damning evidence had been falsified by the Cardinal's pet, the past could not be undone.

He strode towards her, his face revealing nothing, he was not opposed to her ideas or values, he hadn't been nearly three years ago either. Her loss had been a political move by the Cardinal, a power play as he considered his options and exercised his influence, but why had she come to him? And how had she known where to find him?

She did not look the fine lady she had been born, her clothes were simple, and she wore no jewels, but he doubted if her shift in means had changed her spirit. Her head was high, and she moved towards him with purpose.

"Captain Treville, or should I call you Minister Treville now." She inclined her head slightly, though her eyes said it was not respect; the woman was angry.

"Mademoiselle." He didn't know what she was calling herself now.

"You remember who I am?"

"I do not know what you call yourself now, but I remember how you left Paris."

"Armana Sorcie, I thought it fitting given the Cardinal wanted me to die as a witch I reinvent myself in his honor." There was a defiant tilt to her chin. "I see you made safe passage out to the region, a shame more can't. But then you are not travelling with women and children."

"On that you would be wrong, my wife and our children are with me. If there is danger, why have you taken the risk of making two trips here?" He had seen nothing unusual on the journey out here, and Rylan had visited nearly ever day, saying nothing about any problems.

The woman had not known he was married, her face revealed surprise, but when she had left Paris his only focus had been the regiment. It was several months later that he and Maggie married, apparently her resources did not reach to Paris; she must have connections around here to be informed that he had obtained this place.

"I take the risk because I have nothing left loose. The people here have little and still they are losing not just the scraps they have saved out of each harvest but their daughters, their mothers, beautiful young women who have harmed no one. While many in the King's court would not care, I believe you do. These people love their King, they are hard working French men and women, I cannot go to Paris to plead their case and they are afraid to travel so far. The Magistrate will do nothing of it." And so, her nature had not changed, she would risk herself in the same way that had cost her so much in Paris for another.

"Come up to the house, we will discuss this further." Treville gestured up to where he was sure Maggie was watching.

The woman inclined her head and followed him up to the house, Maggie greeted them at the door; her eyes questioned him silently. He noted that she had already set another place at the table, both children sat in their spots and while Jeanne Claire eagerly squeaked a greeting Marc watched silently.

As Maggie slipped back into the kitchen for something he followed, she paused "Who is she to you?"

"My men helped her leave Paris three years ago, and you do not know her name. Then she was Ninon de Larroque." He wouldn't be surprised if she had heard of it, it had been a bit of a spectacle even if the King had wanted it quiet.

"I remember, but she was killed." She looked at him, blue eyes narrowed as he inclined his head.

"You have seen the Cardinal's politics Maggie, he took her fortune for the King's navy and silenced her voice in Paris."

"How did she know where to find you?" Her frown was still in place.

"That I don't know yet, she is not a bad person Maggie."

"I know that, and I know her reputation, I believed her dead, there was a time when I thought of running away; asking her to hide me. Paris is not such a big place." She gave him a weak smile before picking up a plate of rolls for the table. He stopped her, gently holding her to his chest for a moment, her past had made her stronger, but her spirit had never broken. "Our marriage is a much better solution."

"I am glad of that."

"I am surprised the Cardinal does not take more of an issue with me." She commented.

"He can't, whether Ninon agrees or not there are advantages to a husband. A man may take issue with your behavior, but their greater question will by why I allow it; and then they must find the courage to ask me." And those who knew him well knew better, those who didn't were suitably intimidated before breeching the subject. "And your loyal service to the throne is not unknown."

Maggie shook her head and turned back to the dining room, Treville smiled. His wife did not know how seriously the King had lamented her gender and that he could not commission her after she defended his life last winter. Nor did she understand that the respect that the men showed her was not given because she was his wife or the care she tended them with; they respected her skill with the sword.

He joined them for the meal, Ninon was quiet but the gratitude she expressed for the meal was sincere and he wondered if the Cardinal had been good to his word, providing a stipend for her to live on or not. Maggie was friendly, asking questions to draw her out as she tried to keep their daughter's meal in the dish; rather than every other surface within reach.

Ninon had a small cottage near a village, she ran a school from her home and worked odd jobs to support herself. He listened, the woman responded more openly to Maggie than him, laughing as Jeanne Claire tried to dodge around Maggie to share her food.

Once the meal was finished Maggie set Jeanne Claire in his lap as she sent Marc back to his activities. He rose, gently tucking the squirming toddler into his shoulder to soothe her; it was time for a nap. "Do you know how many have been affected?"

"No, it started well before I arrived here, and it is not consistent. Some make the pass safely but then others will not. They are not just thieves, they are kidnapping."

"Highway robbery is just as illegal as abduction. I ask again why you took the risk of making two trips out here with no confirmation I would be here?" As Jeanne Claire settled he crossed to lay her in the cradle, the sleepy toddler snuggled down without protest.

"I travelled overland, it is a more difficult journey, but it is safer; and I do have less to lose. If they take me, I do not leave behind a family; someone must make this end." The woman spoke with the same passion she had three years before when she fought for her cause.

"I will escort you home. You will show me where they attack..." Treville paused as Maggie turned back from the wash basin.

"Jean, one of your men is here." Maggie did not sound impressed.

"Stay here." He instructed firmly, if someone had been sent out here it was serious.

Treville met the man in the yard, as his eyes roamed towards the road, the carriage waited with a full guard; he had a good idea why they were out here. He was surprised that Athos had not assigned his team to escort the excursion. "The Queen is going to the monastery an hour from here. She would like Maggie's company on the journey."

The woman was pregnant, such a long journey was risky. "How long is she intending to stay?"

"As long as her heart desires." The man smirked a little, likely repeating the King's instruction. "I will return her when the Queen is settled."

"I will get Maggie, she will not be able to remain at the monastery." He sighed, the Queen's marriage was difficult, the King's affair may have been forgiven but it was not forgotten.

It wouldn't surprise him if she remained at the monastery for some time. The officials would be forced to cater to her and the Queen would be aware of that. He saw Maggie off and informed Ninon that he would escort her home, promising that he would investigate her claims. He had a duty to the people on his land who likely had kin throughout the area, but as a father and a soldier he was able to do something about it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Maggie greeted the Queen's nervous face with a smile, Giles, the musketeer who had fetched her helped her dismount and held the door to the carriage for her to climb in. As she did the woman looped her arms about her neck. "I am so glad you came, I have missed you at court."

"Jean wouldn't refuse your request." Something the Queen knew all to well. "And I am glad to see you in good spirits."

She eased herself into the seat next to Constance, the redhead's glance told her there was more to the story. The dauphin rode in Constance's lap, sleeping peacefully for now.

"I intend to stay at the monastery until my husband comes to his senses. He will not repeat his actions last year; not if he hopes to have my support. With our children or with Spain." The defiant tilt to the woman's chin worried Maggie, she would have to get Constance alone to find out what he had done.

Had he taken another mistress as soon as Jean left the palace? She knew the pregnancy and betrayal with De Winter had scared him into some sense, but how long it would last with out subtle reminders remained to be seen.

"And if the child comes?" Perhaps she should try to persuade Jean to stay out here longer. The monastery might be a place of comfort to the Queen, but it would be a vulnerable place too; and she wasn't sure what medical help would be available.

"I have inquired, there are nuns there who are excellent midwives. They will ensure I am well cared for."

Maggie nodded, that was likely true, and she knew visiting monasteries was something Anne had done frequently with her own parents as a child. Perhaps the time with the women would be good for her, and her absence would resonate with the King; reminding him that he missed her when she was not there.

The carriage jerked to a halt, Maggie threw an arm out to prevent the dauphin flying forward as they all tried to brace themselves. It was unlike the experienced driver to stop so suddenly, but then she heard shouting and musket fire.

"Constance put the child under the bench, use your skirts to hide him." Maggie instructed as the door was yanked, something prevented it from opening that time but in the small space she awkwardly drew her sword.

The whole carriage shook, and the Queen let out a small shriek, Maggie suspected their driver had just been unseated. The next time the door shook it opened, as soon as she saw a flash of dirty fabric she thrust her sword forward; the musketeers all wore their uniforms and that was not one.

As she stepped out her eyes scanned the ground, chaos erupted around her. Spotting a solid branch, she withdrew her sword from the dying man and passed the branch back to Constance. "Bar the door. Let no one in."

She dodged a musketeer fighting two men and crept towards the horses who pranced nervously against their brake. Pulling herself up Maggie reached for the reins, she needed them to run; she could see the massive stone walls of the monastery up ahead.

Releasing the brake, she held the reins as she had seen her husband do many times. To short to sit on the seat she stood in the bay, bracing her arms to try and keep a grip. The horses eagerly jumped into motion and Maggie's balance wavered badly; she had never driven such a strong team before.

She tied the reins to the bar in front of her, afraid her hands would slip, and she would lose them before glancing back. In that moment she cried out; something hit her from above and the world went black.

As her eyes opened pain exploded ripping through her but she saw the horses racing towards the huge gates beyond; Maggie slid into the black again.

…

"Where is Maggie?" Anne demanded the moment Constance opened the carriage door, they were safely in the courtyard of the monastery, the huge gates barred between them and the outside world.

A nun gave her a confused look. "Your majesty we have been expecting you, we heard such chaos; your horses were not driven through our gates."

"Maggie was driving, I heard her call to the horses; she barred our door, so no one could get in." Anne spoke adamantly, looking to the top of the carriage to see if her friend had collapsed up there; all she saw was blood.

A whimper nearly choked her as she realized Maggie must have fallen or been pulled off, the horses reins were tied back and the brake was loose; they'd run out of their own fear. Anne leaned into Constance's arms, had her whim just killed her dear friend?

Maggie's daughter was only a few months older than her own son, and they had taken in another boy, the orphan of one of the Captain's soldiers. Had she taken both children's mother? The Captain may be fiercely loyal to the King, but he was no longer a commissioned soldier, his position as minister did not have the requirements the military did. If she had stolen the woman he loved would he advise them any longer?

Anne trembled as she considered it all, no one would survive losing so much blood; and being thrown from a moving carriage. She saw the fear in Constance's eyes too, what if they never saw Maggie's soft smile again. Or had their afternoon interrupted when her husband called for her, they teased her that he treated her as an officer more than a wife; she often helped him in his work. But the two were happy together and it poured out on those around them, they were a steadying force in the politics and back stabbing of court, for her and for the King.

"A musketeer approaches!" A voice shouted from above.

"Do not let him in, take his message from there." The nun who greeted her instructed firmly.

A shouted exchange was muffled by the walls and then the woman hurried down from the wall. "They have sent word to Paris for a new team to guard you; they lost men, and a woman has been badly injured. They are returning the woman to her home, and have asked if we can spare a healer for the journey."

"Maggie!" Anne murmured. "You must, please I will make any donation you need but you must help her."

"It is not a matter of money, but we must consider if this man tells the truth, it could be a trap." The old nun spoke softly. "Many of our pilgrims have been accosted on their journey, the money they bring to gift us stolen, members of their party abducted."

"I know the musketeers; my husband is one. If I recognize the man will you send help?" Constance offered.

A nun from the back of the group nudged her way forward. "If she knows the man, I can leave through the side gate; I will go to the woman."

The old nun who seemed to be in charge nodded, and a few moments later the young woman who had offered slipped away with a pack on her shoulder. Anne breathed a sigh of relief, the musketeers' healer had not been on the journey with them, Aramis was in Paris with Athos; the man was keeping his friends close as he adjusted to the role he was being groomed for.

...

The muse works for reviews :), thanks to Whatfunny for taking the time to review.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

He was just nicely returning from dropping Ninon back at her cottage and exploring the sites where she said the attacks occurred when he heard shots. His eyes roamed the roadside, his hand reaching instinctively for his own pistol. This would be a bad place to attack, the others he had been shown all gave the highway robbers the advantage. Treville winced, he had the children in the carriage with him, it was some distance away but out here sound carried, it could be much farther than he thought; it could be the Queen's party.

Treville knew he had to make a choice, climbing down for the seat he instructed Marc to crawl under the back bench and keep Jeanne Claire quiet. He secured both doors, so no one would have easy access to his children and checked that the spare pistols he had brought were ready. As he turned left at the junction of the road, heading towards the monastery rather than his home he saw a rider approaching fast. Reining in his horses he waited, it was Giles, and the man was moving with some speed.

"Captain, have you come from your home?" The man inquired.

"No, I was returning a guest home as Maggie was called away." He frowned, Giles looked a little rough, but holding onto him for dear life was a nun.

"There has been an incident. The Queen is safe, we lost men and Maggie was injured. I sent Fortescue ahead with her, but he must go on to Paris to get a fresh team." The man explained hurriedly.

"The woman can come with me, go back and guard your Queen. I will send Fortescue." Treville wanted to inquire of his wife, but he would see her in a matter of moments.

"The men who attacked us escaped."

"All the more reason for you to be with the Queen. Go." He helped the nun dismount and let her into the carriage, beckoning the children to come out.

He made the horses trot and got home to find his front door had been thrown open, he sent the nun ahead and lifted both children into his arms. "Marc, you keep your own eyes hidden and Jeanne Claire's too."

With both burying their faces in his coat he carried them straight upstairs and set them on the floor in Marc's room. "Keep busy and stay up here until I come back."

With them safely out of the way he went back down stairs, mentally preparing himself for how bad it could be. If there was nothing the nun could do he had to be prepared to sit with her and hold her; he had too seen many men die. Fortescue was gone, the nun had Maggie stretched out on the table, the back of her dress split open; from the look of it someone had caught her across the back with a chain several times. The woman looked up at him as she mixed a poultice of some kind. "This is the worst of it, she has a nasty cut on her forehead, and lots of bruises but she was not stabbed."

He nodded, that was good, but a chain could break bones, her injuries might be worse than they could see. "What can I do?"

"Cut her out of these muddy clothes, we can probably thank the mud for sparing her worse injuries. The man said she was pushed from the driver's seat of the carriage, they reached her before the man struck more than three blows. She has bumps and bruises from the fall, but her limbs are not broken; some ribs may be painfully cracked but her chest is sound." The nun explained, and Treville felt a sigh of relief escape him, the woman had already given her a thorough exam.

He used his dagger to cut the dress and skirts from Maggie, his wife would be upset yet another dress was destroyed and for some reason that thought made him smile; she hated to spend money on herself. Perhaps he would try to see to it again, he was sure Constance would help him. Gently he laid a warm blanket over her legs, so she wasn't completely bare, tucking around her sides. The nun had cleaned the long wounds across her back and was carefully stitching them, she glanced up and instructed him to stir the pot she had on the fire.

It had a strong smell to it, but he obeyed, and when she finished stitching she scooped the gunk thickly onto a strip of linen and laid it across one of the wounds, she repeated that for each one and then wrapped Maggie's back in bandages. "I will help you settle her in bed, it is best she sleeps as long as she can. She is to stay bed ridden until her back heals; it will allow the ribs to heal as well."

Carefully he lifted her and carried her up to their bed, as he lay her out the nun moved her about before tucking her in. "Keep an eye on her, when she wakes the medicine may make her feel stronger than she is; she must not rise. I will come back to check on her tomorrow."

"Thank you, if you ride you may take one of my horses." He took some coin and pressed it into the woman's hand before she could argue. Out here it was generally Maggie who knew how to tend injuries, she would not have fared nearly as well with out the young nun.

The woman did take the horse he saddled for her and Treville watched her go for a few moments, it was somewhat convenient that rather than be at the spot where Ninon seemed convinced they always were they had moved to attack the Queens' party. He had more questions than answers, but now he had more reason to investigate this. In the house he went to find the children, Jeanne Claire was to young to understand much beyond mama needs to sleep, but Marc already had some idea of what had happened.

Not more than an hour had passed before there was another woman on his doorstep, this one he recognized from the village down the way. This one made no issue of inviting herself in and going straight to the pantry, she lay a freshly butchered chicken on the counter and took down the big stock pot. "Soldier or not, I wager I am better cook than you and that girl will need good food to recover and tend those babies. I am Sarah."

The stock pot was filled with water and set on the fire as the woman raided the pantry for vegetables and dry goods, she seemed to know what she was making as she broke down the chicken and then diced the vegetables before turning to the dry goods and making some kind of dough. Exhausted Treville just watched, Jeanne Claire asleep in his arms, part of him was afraid for when his daughter woke asking for her mother; it would be some time before Maggie could hold her again.

"Thank you for doing this."

"Nonsense, you two are a breath of fresh air around here, and that girl of yours is a sweet heart. She brought sweet rolls down to the village like I have never tasted, gave some to every family and took the time to learn our children's names. And my man says you've some decency too, talking about building us a new well, asking if they're treated fairly. Not often a lord cares of that." Sarah paused to brush Jeanne Claire's cheek. "I'll have my daughter fetch up some milk for that little one later, her mama can't be trying to nurse."

"She doesn't really need to nurse any more." Maggie had been talking for weeks of weaning her completely; but each evening took her into her arms anyway.

"It will be a comfort thing when her mama is ill, she'll cry for it."

Treville only nodded and went to check on his wife again, Maggie had not stirred. The afternoon wore into evening and he fed the children the thick soup Sarah had made; bringing a bowl up and setting it near the bed for when Maggie woke. Sarah was right about Jeanne Claire too, before bed time she fussed unhappily as he gave her the cup of milk; demanding her mother. "Mama? I mama!"

"I know." He murmured softly, rocking her until she finally fell asleep. The longest Jeanne Claire ever went with out her mother's attention was a few hours, Maggie always held her before bed and woke her in the morning.

Through the night he sat silently by his wife's side, checking regularly for fever but Maggie didn't rouse. The morning with Jeanne Claire was even worse, their daughter refused to be comforted and refused any breakfast offered. Sarah brought up another woman from the village who was nursing but Jeanne Claire would have none of it, even the two women had a hard time softening the toddler's screams. Finally, she exhausted herself and fell asleep in his arms again, Treville was at a loss for what to do. He thought of laying her in the bed next to Maggie, but when her mama didn't respond Jeanne Claire was likely to become even more upset.

Marc stayed scarce, he came down for meals but Treville wasn't sure where he was spending the rest of his time. In the early afternoon he sat in a rocker by Maggie's bed and the boy came in, only seven the child had already lost both his parents before Maggie took him in; with this he had to be scared too. He hovered in the door way a long time before going to the bedside, leaning something against the table. "I made her a walking stick, for when she gets up."

"I am sure she will appreciate that Marc." He rose and crossed to the boy who stood almost frozen in place.

"I found a really straight branch, and it is perfectly smooth…" Treville gently pulled the boy into his side, muffling his explanation as the child leaned into him and cried.

"She's going to be okay, we just have to give her some time." He tried to comfort him, in truth Maggie was much more natural with the children than he was. He could teach them things, but Maggie was much more intuitive to their needs.

"Can I take Jeanne Claire to play with the blocks?" The boy asked, Aramis had helped him make them, very carefully carving little animals and letters into each one.

"Sure." It might be good if she woke up to some normalcy, playing with Marc rather than being held close like a talisman.

Treville carried her down to Marc's room and as the boy opened the pack of blocks he eased down onto the floor; rousing Jeanne Claire. In a matter of moments, the two children were playing, and the little girl seemed to forget that her mama couldn't hold her; he left them to it and returned to Maggie.

Gently he stroked her cheek, wishing her pretty blue eyes would open. "You know I can't do this without you Mags."

Treville leaned back against the head board, her bandages and poultices had been changed this morning, but she had not stirred. The nun hadn't been too worried, but Treville was. The longer she slept the more he feared she wouldn't wake.

He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but he woke to a small hand squeezing his thigh. Startled he covered it with his own before realizing she had moved it. "Maggie?"

"Something's not right." Her voice was weak, and he frowned, her face seemed pale. "Jean, I don't feel right…"

She ended it by throwing up, her body curling in pain, for a moment he was frozen before nodding. "I will be right back Mags."

His stomach turned in knots as he went for Sarah and waited beyond the door, he could hear the children playing and that was a small blessing. When the door opened he went straight to his wife, the woman had changed the bed and Maggie's blankets; tears stained Maggie's cheeks.

"What's wrong?" He murmured as she recoiled from his touch, Treville glanced between his wife and the woman tending her.

Maggie didn't meet his eyes, just eased away from his hand, sadness filled Sarah's eyes. "After a trauma the body cannot always support mama and babe, especially when it is too early for a woman to be sure. The bleeding isn't fresh, she lost the baby before she woke."

"Maggie." His throat felt thick, his wife wouldn't even look at him and he could see this hurt her more than her back did.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Sarah stayed that evening, and as they lay Jeanne Claire beside Maggie he saw a tear run down her cheek as she reached for their daughter. Treville had not considered that they were to have another child, Jeanne Claire and Marc kept Maggie so busy already; but he felt the loss. They would never hold that child, watch her grow or hear her cry.

"Sir, I know this isn't my place but I've seen many babies into this world, I've seen the lost ones too. It is best she not become pregnant again for some time, after her body had such serious injuries if she doesn't heal properly another child will kill her." As Sarah spoke he glanced at Maggie, she heard the warning just as he did.

Deep in his gut something inside him clenched in anger as it was not truly a loss. Maggie did nothing to hurt anyone, she protected her Queen bravely where pilgrims walked; a journey that should have been safe for all. Their child had been stolen before Maggie knew it was time to take caution and even so, he knew his wife's loyalty and strength; he couldn't see her standing down in such a situation. And no matter what he wanted, he could not hope that she would stand by when the Queen's life was in the balance. And some fool had used that to steal from her; from both of them.

"When are the men paid?" Treville asked as Sarah brought down a dish Maggie had barely touched. He could ask his brother in law, but he had no desire to involve another, it had been some time since he thought as impulsively as he did now.

"Today, when the work is done." Sarah barely glanced back at him. "Lord Antoniou and his men attend to that."

Treville only nodded, he wasn't concerned about the pay; but the transactions would mean people would be on the roads tomorrow. The robbers had missed a payout two days ago, they had lost men and pride; they would be out tomorrow morning. It was just a matter of where.

It would not be pilgrims tomorrow who would offer a profit, the money would be in honest families who travelled for supplies, to pay debts, every coin would be hard earned. They'd had the last of their freedom if he had any say in it.

Before dawn broke he struck off on foot, Sarah stayed the night, tending Maggie and the children as his wife struggled quietly. Treville felt no place there, he could not help her and that was crippling. He could not strengthen her, he could not fight this for her. Nothing would give her back what she had lost today, and she felt it so much deeper than him and she could not even look at him; this was the first time he felt truly separated from her.

Treville stayed off the road, already he had intel as to where they liked to hide. Perhaps it was foolish to take on a band alone, but it was much easier for one man to move unnoticed than a team. He became invisible in the undergrowth as he approached a short ridge near the road.

…

Maggie woke alone, her husband's spot on the bed cold, the sheets still smooth; Jean hadn't come to bed. It was early yet, the sun's light had just begun to filter into the room. If they were home this would be the only time he was truly home.

Before the day began, while the children still slept, those moments were theirs. He might not get home until late, and most of the day he would be busy with the King but in the morning, he with her. Early in the morning he didn't talk about the palace or his men. In the mornings he talked of their family, he listened, and he held her close. Maggie didn't have words yet, but she wanted his arms around her.

Sarah would not let her out of bed, the woman insisted that she rest and heal. Laying here did not feel like rest, it was lonely and only made her think more of the pain she felt. Every little move made her back ache, but when she lay still she thought of the child that was not going to grow and move within her.

It shouldn't bother her so much, she hadn't even been sure she was with child until she woke, her belly seizing worse than her back. She had wondered, but it had been to early to do anything but wonder, now Maggie wondered if Jean was angry that she hadn't told him. She wasn't sure he wanted another child, he doted on Jeanne and was good to Marc, but he didn't speak of wanting more.

She hadn't given it much thought, with two children, the musketeers and the Queen to attend Maggie just enjoyed the private moments in her husband's arms when they had the chance. Now she couldn't think of anything but a child, and there was nothing to do to keep her mind from it.

The day passed slowly, and Maggie didn't see Jean once, his absence hurt like a deep wound. Sarah brought Jeanne to her and the toddler squirmed, trying to crawl over her and play when all Maggie wanted to do was hold her close; her emotions were so conflicted. When Maggie finally got her tucked into her side her little girl just stared at her with big blue eyes and Maggie wanted to cry.

As much as she wanted to hold her daughter and curl into her husband's arms a part of her felt empty and broken. When she fell asleep that night she still hadn't seen Jean, and his absence said enough.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

As he approached the ridge he picked four hiding in the scrub, their attention was on the road and not their flank. He crept up the back of the ridge and easily overtook the highest position, the man went silently. Treville lowered the unconscious form into the dirt and stayed low.

He had two shots, a dagger and line of site; he liked that set up just fine. The heavy brush gave cover from the road, making it impossible for anyone to see who was up here. Also meant the men up here couldn't see each other that well either.

The clop of hooves made him frown, the last thing he needed in the middle of this was civilians. But a man drove a cart along the road approaching the ridge, it was an easy jump down onto his cart and he saw men edging forward to do just that.

Treville eased forward, a pistol in each hand he watched; the first who jumped weren't going to survive. Treville took out two before they landed, one as he jumped, and body checked the second into the side of the cart. The last one landed just behind the driver, his weapon of choice was a heavy chain.

As it was swung back Treville caught the end, using it to jerk the man around. The driver took the opportunity to leap into the back to shelter his load. Treville had the upper hand as the man reached for his pistol he pressed his own to the base of his skull.

"Consider that carefully." Treville's voice was low, Maggie's back had been torn up by a chain not unlike the one he still had a grip of; it was not the most common weapon of choice.

"You're in over your head man, four to one is not odds I would take." The man's hand was still on the but of his pistol.

"Its one on one, remember the woman you knocked from a carriage two days ago?" Treville kicked his knees out and the man fell forward; wrapping the man's chain around his neck. "That was my wife."

"Sweet little thing would have fetched me a pretty price. What are you going to do? Take me to the Magistrate?" Treville cracked the man on the back of the head to stop his cackle and eased back, that was as much of a confession that this was about more than robbery as he was going to get.

For a moment he just stood, this should have answered something inside of him; it didn't. Maggie would still be lying in that bed hurting when he got home. The King would be happy that those who had accosted his Queen were in custody, but it didn't answer the question of what these men were doing. As he turned towards the owner of the cart he saw the man clinging to a sack of grain, Treville frowned until he realized the burlap sack was trembling.

"You are safe, I mean you no harm. I am Captain Treville, of the King's musketeers." He scraped the mud from his jacket to reveal the insignia he had covered earlier that morning.

"They took my niece two weeks ago; my brother was taking her to town." The man spoke as he opened two of the sacks; two young girls clung to him. "I was trying to take my daughters to safety, there is a soldier who purchased land not far from here; I have family on his land."

Treville sighed, he saw the exhaustion and desperation this man felt; he knew it himself. "Perhaps I can accompany you on that journey if I may commission your cart first; I will assure your safe travel today."

When the man eagerly agreed he hauled the unconscious and injured prisoners out of the brush and loaded them into the cart. Positioning himself in the back between the family and his captives; the man drove towards the monastery. The man who had taunted him had woken and noted his uniform; he had no more smart remarks. As they approached at the gate he saw his men on lookout, and the gates opened as they reached them. Athos had brought his own team out after the attack.

Treville said little as he unloaded his prisoners, dropping the last one from the cart without concern before stepping down himself. Porthos caught his eye, the man was watching just a little to closely as he met with Athos and was updated on the current news. The King wanted the Queen to return to the palace; the Queen was digging in her heels and Athos was irritated. "She is the Queen of France, I can't exactly bundle her into a carriage and cart her back to the palace against her will."

"Have you tried persuasion?" He asked dryly, and received an exasperated look, politics were Athos' strength but he did not yet have the confidence of the royals behind him. It took time to earn it, and it was a fluid thing ebbing and flowing unpredictably; Treville turned to the Queen. "Majesty, we have the parties responsible for the attack on your escort, however I do not believe the issue is resolved."

"Am I not safer here than in transit?" The Queen stood among the nuns, her young son cradled on Constance's hip.

"At this time, I do not believe so, we have a small number in custody but as they become desperate they may resort to desperate actions and a Queen and an heir are worth a great deal. Allow us to deal with this matter and I am sure the King will allow you to visit another time. Men cannot be dedicated to hunting these criminals down while your safety is at risk." He spoke logic, the same as he was sure Athos would have used.

"Will you speak to the King? I want to return here as soon as this is dealt with." The Queen spoke firmly, and he nodded; not letting his irritation show.

"I will ride for Paris immediately, tomorrow be ready to travel." It was best he handled this, he didn't want to make the trip, but it needed to be handled as smoothly and quickly as possible; there was nothing for him to do at home anyways.

He drew Athos aside, briefing him on the situation and what he had learned as so far. A man was assigned to escort the cart on its journey and as he looked to borrow a horse Porthos approached; the reins of two in hand. "I will go with you."

Treville nodded and took the reins of one. "When the Queen is secured I suggest you ride down to the valley, speak with a woman there her cottage is two leagues before the village; Armana Sorcie but you will know her."

He wheeled the horse around and urged the animal up to a good pace; he wanted to make this journey quickly. Porthos caught up to him on the road, for a long time they rode together silently. The younger man did not speak until they stopped to water the horses. "How is Maggie?"

"Alive." It was the only answer he could give, Maggie was miserable and not at all herself. He could explain what she was feeling, he didn't have the words, not until he knew his wife had reconciled it; and he didn't know if she could. But he suspected he would not get her back if she didn't; not the way they had been anyway.

"Funny, I expected worse given the fight you are looking for." The man mounted beside him, angling his own horse so Treville could not move forward. "We all know Maggie is tougher than nails."

"She was with child, we lost it." He paused, Porthos eyed him for a moment and Treville sighed. "You don't repeat a word of that to anyone."

But for a moment he felt peace to tell someone else of it. Doing this he was not as useless as he was sitting by her side. Porthos said nothing else as they continued.

It was late afternoon by the time they arrived in Paris, he went straight to the palace to speak to the King. "Where is the Queen?"

"The Queen remains at the monastery, she would like assurances that she may spend some time there when this matter has been settled." Treville measured his tone, unsure how much the King knew.

"Fine if she must." The King sighed dramatically. "Have you learned who is responsible for this?"

"The men directly responsible for the attack have been captured but this is part of something bigger." He had captured four thieves, none criminal masterminds who were trafficking in people.

"Then the matter is resolved." The King declared.

"Perhaps it is, for you and for the Queen but not for the people who live in that region; they've lived in terror for a long time. They are your people Sire, their magistrate is ineffective if not on the take; you are their King. And while they need your protection, their support is your security." One thing he had learned as his time and responsibility in the palace increased, he could argue his side and he knew what the King longed for.

"No, I want my Queen home. I have heard that there is an envoy on route from Spain; I need you here to deal with it Treville." The King sighed.

"You know how to reach me Sire, I can be in Paris in a matter of hours." It was personal to him, and he wanted to see it done; he wanted to know what it was.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks for the reviews guys. :)**

 **Chapter Seven**

She caved and asked Sarah where Jean was. He hadn't come home last night, and Sarah was still here; he had arranged it. Maggie tried to get up, she nearly cried as she tried to pull her shift over her head.

The fabric pooled in her lap as she held the sheet around herself; she couldn't even put on her own clothes. Maggie looked up as the door opened and her husband froze in the doorway. "Why are you up?"

"Because I want to be." And his words were as much an accusation as a question.

"Maggie, you need to rest to heal." He looked exhausted and exasperated, but he managed to snag the shift from her lap. "Lay down Mags."

"Where have you been?" She obeyed hesitantly, in truth if she couldn't get her dress on she couldn't get up.

"Busy." He handed her a short glass and Maggie knew it was strong; she drank it anyway.

He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots and she did her best to give him some space. Jean stretched out and she felt his palm trace lightly over her hip; Maggie rolled onto her belly.

She heard his sigh, and felt him shifting closer, Maggie pulled away and tried to find a comfortable spot. "Maggie, please look at me."

Carefully she rolled over, keeping space between them. She had wanted him here before and still had no idea where he had been so long. Maggie knew something could have come up, his work often did. Was he already over the fact they had lost a child?

He reached out again, and Maggie flinched; she saw frustration in his face. "Fine Maggie, I'll give you space."

He rose and disappeared, Maggie swallowed hard; he wasn't coming back. She had never felt so alone, for a time she stayed in the bed. But eventually she reached for the shift he had tossed aside and slowly eased it on over the bandages.

She shook as she got to her feet slowly, using the wall to steady herself. Maggie went down to the children's room, she could hear them playing and smiled a little. Each step hurt, but Maggie slipped past to what was supposed to be the master.

Jean had slept here, he wouldn't like it and that meant he wouldn't sleep soundly; and he needed sleep. The bed was mussed and his coat was tossed on the other side. He hadn't gone far without his coat, Maggie picked it up and smiled a little as she hung it.

He had gotten it muddy again, the worn leather was scarred and battered; she didn't even know how long he'd had it. As Maggie hung it on the hook something rattled in the pocket, she dug in the pockets until she found a small glass bottle.

Frowning she left the coat and turned to set it on the bedside table until she noticed the label on the tincture. Maggie dropped onto the bed in shock, she swallowed nervously. It was still sealed, she didn't know when he had purchased it; but now she knew his answer.

The door was tossed open and Jean entered, already reaching out for where he left his coat; he froze. "Maggie why are you up again?"

"You didn't want another baby." She whispered, opening her hand to reveal the small dark bottle.

"No Maggie, that is not true." His hands reached out, but she scowled, leaning away. "I wanted to have this conversation a different way."

"Now you don't have to worry about it." Maggie swallowed hard, pushing herself up.

"Maggie, stop." She jerked away from his hands and stumbled into the wall. He stepped back, scrubbing his hand across his face. "I won't touch you, please go back to bed."

Finally, she made it back to bed and curled into the pillow, she was angry and exhausted. She didn't know where her husband went but she didn't hear him moving around before she fell asleep.

…

Treville sat with Jeanne Claire on his lap, trying to get their daughter to eat rather than play. Maggie was upstairs, alone and miserable because of a stupid idea he'd had. But as he tried to keep Jeanne Claire from smearing her food around and get Marc to eat his vegetables he felt overwhelmed. Sarah had gone home, and he didn't know what he was doing.

He kept seeing his wife cowering and recoiling from him as though he would smack her rather than help her. Remembering her laying on a table lifeless and covered in mud and blood, bleeding in her bed, he couldn't raise their children alone and he didn't want them spending all their time with strangers. And in his mind, his choice had made sense, but he had figured on laying it out for her before she found the tincture. They had two beautiful children already, he saw no reason not to have some assurance that it would be their choice if they were to have another; especially as it meant risking her life.

After he put the children to bed he took a plate up, she had hardly touched food since the incident and she would not recover without it. As he entered the room he saw her burrow down a little more, intent on ignoring him. Treville didn't intend to make that easy for her. "Maggie, I never gave much thought to a wife or a family, before that day in court."

She didn't move so he set the plate down, Sarah's cooking wasn't hers, but it was good, and she had to be hungry. He eased down to sit on the edge of the bed. "I grew up in a garrison, and I became a soldier because that was all I knew how to do; that was all my father knew how to teach me. I have very few memories of my mother, and even fewer of my parents together and none of those are any good. A soldier's life is hard on a woman, and on a family."

He wasn't sure he had told her all of this, he had told her bits and pieces over the past few years, but he tried very hard to keep it in the past. He wanted nothing of his parent's life in their marriage, and already a part had entered in; right now, they were distant from each other. "I chose not to marry until the King ordered it because I did not think it a fair thing to do. My mother loved me, and she loved my father, or she tried to, but soldiering made him into a hard man and I feared I would become the same."

Treville eased back a little bit, she was listening, not looking at him but listening. "She was killed in a riot Maggie, right outside the garrison he was stationed at. During the unrest many innocent people died, my father chose the sword over her so many times and on that day, they had fought. Her life would have been much easier had they not wed, and she might have felt free to leave had she not a child. After that I didn't hear my given name until you said it. I spent all my time soldiering, learning and working because it was the only way I could connect with my father and then it became all I knew. But it became much easier three years ago, and a little happier."

He reached out, lightly resting his hand on her calf, rubbing it through the thin sheet. "You have become my partner, and my confidant and you wear my duty as your own and I don't want to do any of this without you. I love our children Maggie, I would have loved that little one too. But I do not want to risk your life over and I believe we must heed Sarah's warning, I want our children to grow up with their mama. Our family is our business and no one else's, if we are content, I still want you in my arms. You promised never to prevent my child, and you gave me a beautiful daughter, I would not drug you and it was not my intention to do it behind your back, but it was not something I would ask you to do. Now please eat."

"Can I sit up or am I supposed to eat laying down?"

"Get up." Her smart remark made him smile, she might be a bit off balance right now, but she was in there, irritated with being confined to a bed and waited on; probably not happy there was someone else in her kitchen. As she sat she wobbled, he reached out and again she flinched away; Treville hated that. "You know I'll never strike you."

"Its not you." Her voice was still soft, and he saw a tear run down her cheek. "I don't want anyone to touch me, how can I when I can hardly hold my own child?"

Her voice was desperate and Treville was confused, when she sounded like that he wanted nothing more than to pull her close to his chest and make her feel safe. Sarah had said she wasn't asking to see Jeanne Claire, but he had assumed she wasn't feeling well or trying to sleep. He had no idea how such things worked, he was sure their emotions were different right now. He had been itching for a fight as soon as he processed it, but Maggie seemed so sad. "It was not your fault, none of it. Would you be happy right now if something had happened to the Queen?"

"No, Jean that is not what it is about." Her head shook, and he heard frustration in her voice.

"I don't know what you are feeling Maggie, you should have been safe, and you should be about to tell me some very good news. But it was not your choice that this happened, not your choice or your fault, I think you fought hard to protect our baby, I think your body did all it could. I am thankful you are alive, I am thankful that the little girl we already have still has her mama; the boy you brought home too. And I've already taken care of the person responsible, you will never meet him again." She might not like it, but he wrapped an arm about her shoulders and pulled her into his side.

"I lost your baby. When Sarah put Jeanne Claire beside me I started thinking, what if it had been her? She won't have a little brother or sister now, not that one…"

"But she has a big brother, who you found, and we have time; she may someday have a younger sibling. If not, I think she will be just fine with being the baby; she loves the attention she gets." Maggie was trying to blame herself for this, and that was where they differed. Maggie was not to blame, not in the least, she was the one hurt the most by all of it. He had looked into the eyes of the man who was to blame, and he had never wanted to kill in cold blood more than he had as that man taunted him, and he thought of her laying so still in this bed.

Maggie poked at the plate, her appetite wasn't there but she tried, and though she made a face she drank the strong drink he offered; it would help her sleep for a little while.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

The Queen's carriage would return to Paris today, he would follow with his family soon but for now he was conducting his own investigation. People around here had been living with this for a long time, they might be a bit more willing to help if they saw that someone cared. The only way to get any protection was a liege lord, a Magistrate or in the King's courts, none of those avenues were reliable for the people in this region scraping out a living here. There were great regions of France that lived in similar circumstances, the gap between the nobility and the poor was great and those without often lacked the confidence to reach out for help. Even when they did, their pleas often went unheard.

Treville worked with Marc on his sword work as Jeanne Claire napped, he wasn't used to having free time and the children were not used to him being around so much. The boy seemed to be enjoying it, and as they practiced with wooden swords he found himself laughing at the child's creativity; Marc had very little idea how to use a sword but no fear. He wasn't really training, right now the boy was just getting used to the weight of the sword and playing, learning how it would move, the strength it took to direct it. The wooden swords were small and light, but in time he would get a real one, several as the blade length would grow with the boy.

What Marc lacked in skill he made up for in energy, plowing forward and throwing rather uncomfortable elbows when cornered. In time Jeanne Claire would be able to practise with him too, Treville intended to start her much younger than Marc; in truth the boy should have started almost two years ago. Already Aramis had made Jeanne Claire a toy and often when she saw him and Maggie sparing, or Marc practising she would wave it about, eager to be included.

A knock at the door made him stand, giving an eager boy the opportunity to shoulder check his gut. "Give me a few moments Marc."

As the boy went to find something else to do Treville went to the door and frowned when he found Constance on the other side. "Aren't you returning to Paris with the Queen?"

"We will be leaving soon, Anne and I wanted to see Maggie, but Athos would not let the Queen leave the monastery." Constance invited herself in. "How is she?"

"She is doing better." It might take her heart more time to heal than her body, but she would get there; he would leave the details for Maggie to share.

He showed her up to where Maggie rested, and then gave the two women some privacy. It was somewhat frustrating to know that the men were still out here, rather than on route to Paris; the trip was much slower by carriage. They would move on the Queen's time table, and the woman was not pleased about being returned to Paris. Things were still difficult between the King and Queen. It had been peaceful as of late but trust in that marriage had not been fully rebuilt and the King's fear of a pregnant woman amazed him. Though he catered to her the King seemed to limit his interactions with her, as though afraid his contact would harm the child in some way. It was a complicated relationship, but when the Queen was happy the King was easier to deal with and when the Queen was distant from him the man sulked; not grasping that it took work from both sides to make it happen.

Currently the King had little choice but to cater to the Queen, whether he liked it or not, as France was playing upon the heart strings of her family in hopes of avoiding war. There were spies in both courts and constant disagreements, interferences and threats between the two nations. A part of him thought it came from having two young kings jockeying for importance. Either way he suspected the Spanish council had just as much work in reining in their monarch a he and the French council did.

Before Constance left he stopped her. "When you return to Paris will you go the merchant who made Maggie's dresses? She needs some new ones, hers have been ruined in one way or another. I will settle the account when I return."

"Of course. I am thankful that she is okay." Constance smiled at him before going down to her horse. He watched her go and hoped soon the carriage would leave the monastery soon.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

It had been weeks since the accident, but Maggie was still keenly aware of the healing wounds on her back that ached and pulled as she worked; the other pain was constant, but it was in her heart. Her housework and the garrison were the excuse she was using to avoid the palace, and given she had her husband making her excuses she wanted him to see there was a little bit of truth in it all. And work helped, her to do list kept her mind busy. Already she had scrubbed their quarters, the garrison kitchen and aired out the men's quarters. Her body ached but Maggie ignored it, Porthos helped her haul the mattresses out into the yard and lean them against the wall where she set to cleaning them out and scrubbing the linings.

The men working in the yard were watching her carefully, Porthos seemed to be paying special attention to her lately, he was diligent in hauling wood and water for her while Jean was at work, her husband came home to find their water full and wood box near overflowing but only nodded when she told him Porthos was tending it. As the man returned to working with a group of cadets, and Maggie focused on her task an unwelcome hand came to rest on the sensitive scars just starting to form.

"Nice form for a maid." Maggie jerked back and spun, nearly colliding with the wall as the man moved closer.

"I am not a maid, you'll have to excuse me." She made to duck around him, but his hand shot out to block her way. "Who are you?"

"A cadet." The man chuckled. "Thought all for one and all that was their motto; I could get into that."

"Back up." She slapped him, not missing his sick meaning.

"That was a mistake." As he grabbed her arm Maggie slid the dagger from her skirts; wishing for her sword. She squeaked as the man shook her roughly; trying to muscle her to the doorway.

But a moment later she was jerked off balance as the man flew backwards. "Oi, that's the Captain's wife!"

"Thought you lot shared everything." The man deadpanned as he climbed to his feet. Maggie saw the moment he realized his mistake, Porthos was fiercely loyal to Jean and did not have the sense of humor some did; but she found the placement of his boot to be fitting.

Steadying herself against the wall Maggie watched the man flinch under Porthos' dangerous gaze. "Who are you?"

"I work for the magistrate, you lot are interfering with his jurisdiction." The man looked somewhat concerned, and Maggie suspected he found Porthos much more intimidating than her.

"We work for the King, and he has jurisdiction over your magistrate. Return to your boss." Porthos snarled taking two steps forward before the stranger had the sense to back away. Grudgingly heading for the gate, his eyes flitting back to the man who stood in front of her; Maggie breathed a sigh of relief. "You okay Maggie?"

"Yes. Thank you Porthos." Trying to relax she turned back to her work.

…

The King's ignorance was incredible, Treville was beyond frustrated. The entire point of the meeting he had arranged with the Spanish was to talk, on even ground. And now the King wanted to throw a banquet for the envoy, to make the entire visit into a spectacle for his court an that would be a mistake.

Treville left for the garrison, thankful to be leaving the craziness behind for the night. It had been a long week, and a long few months. The King wasn't listening to sense, he wanted to put on a show when that would only put the two monarchs at odds. They needed to talk, not compete in displays of wealth. And the Queen was demanding to see Maggie, Treville was not willing to subject his wife to the palace right now.

Maggie was struggling to keep going, struggling to keep a strong face but he had a feeling that talking pregnancy and babies with the Queen right now would push her over the edge. He was careful not to indicate how badly she had been hurt, he did not need either royal pushing judgement on the prisoners sitting in the chatelain right now. As much as he had his own reasons for wanting them dead he wanted answers more.

As he passed his reins to one of the men on stable duty, Porthos hovered near the stairs that led up to his home. The man was the only other who knew just how vulnerable Maggie was and the incident that he described made him furious. But it also added another piece to the puzzle that he was trying to understand. It was interesting that the magistrate was so interested in this, and that he was pushing to keep his nose in it.

Treville pushed it aside as he went upstairs, filing the information away; for now, he needed to be with his wife. He stepped in to the delicious smells of Maggie's cooking and hung his coat, crossing to their room to hang his weapons away and check on the children. Both slept soundly, and he regretted staying at the palace so late, Maggie had fed them and tucked them into bed already.

He crossed to the hutch, took down the small tincture and added a couple drops to a glass before filling it with wine and pressing it into his wife's hand and a kiss to her brow. Maggie took it with a soft smile, she wasn't sure of his motives with it, he had no intentions of rushing her, but he needed to build this habit for himself; he would keep her safe.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Maggie snuggled against her husband's chest, he slept soundly with an arm tossed over her hip. He was exhausted, the King was running him ragged and she wasn't helping. Not going to the palace was creating stress as he made her excuses to the Queen, and with the Spanish coming.

She sometimes wondered why he put himself through it all, the King didn't appreciate his work, not the work he put in daily or the advice he offered. It only seemed to matter when he defended them in some tangible way. The young man didn't see how hard Jean pushed himself every day, running interference so that ninety percent of the threats that came the King never even knew about.

Maggie rolled so she could rest her palm against his cheek, he worked hard for the King and he worked hard for his family. But who looked after him? She tried but lately she had been doing a poor job of it, distracted by her own problems. And this stubborn man just kept pushing forward, not caring what the King put him through or what it cost him; she loved him for it.

He stirred, and usually sharp blue eyes were blurry as he eyed her, his hand shifting to hold her hip. "Good morning."

"How are you feeling? Let me see your back." His eyes were sharp now, already wide awake and worrying about her now. And obediently she rolled, his hands were gentle as he shifted her night gown and ran his fingers lightly over the long wounds that ran up her back. "We need to get those stitches out."

She couldn't see them, but Jean promised they were healing. Maggie knew it wasn't going to be pretty, she had first hand experience with how such wounds were; her husband had many. At least he was gentle, and he wasn't afraid to touch her.

"I am going to rouse Aramis, I don't know that I could do a very good job of this Mags; stay put." Her husband rose and crossed the room.

She listened to his steps as he left the room and heard an extra of boots as he returned and heard Aramis' voice. "You sure you want me doing this? Never know she might fall for me."

Maggie nearly chuckled as she heard Jean sigh; not entertained by Aramis' jokes. "Will my presence keep you in check?"

"No guarantees. I mean a beautiful woman in her night gown…" That was ended on a groan as the two entered and Maggie laughed; sure her husband had given him a little reminder.

"Good morning Aramis." She murmured as the man rolled out his tools beside her.

"See about that when I'm done, if you resist my charms." He gave her a megawatt grin and dipped his tools into a basin of hot water.

"I love my husband, you need to redirect charms."

"Well the Captain won't be receptive." Aramis grumbled as her husband snorted his amusement, his hands enfolding hers; Maggie couldn't stop her own giggle.

The soldier might tease and flirt, but he was like a brother to her, and he would never touch her for the fact she was Jean's, and he had far too much respect for his Captain. As the man began to work Maggie tried to stay still, the man was good, but there were so many stitches to be removed.

…

He left Maggie at home to rest and went to the palace, to try to dissuade the King from some hairbrained show of wealth. For once he and the Cardinal were on the same page, the man knew what war would cost and he knew the King was setting himself up to put his guest on the defensive. Treville spent the morning in meetings with the King and counsel; the young royal ignored him and the Cardinal. As they crossed to the library to meet with the King again he paused as the Queen and her ladies filed in ahead of them; Maggie was with them.

Anger raced through his veins, she looked pale, unhappy and unsteady on her feet. She shouldn't be here, he had been clear on that. And as he crossed to her Maggie slumped into his arms, her cheek nestling into his shoulder as he glared at the Queen. "I was clear that I did not want my wife at the palace until she was well."

"And I desired her company. I sent a carriage, so she would not be strained. Louis said it would be okay." The Queen spoke softly, but there was defiance in her eyes.

"Treville my wife is pregnant, she carries my child and is key to my negotiations with Spain; should I not accommodate her wishes" The King smirked at him, unaware of the rage that burned with in him. "Besides she does not look unwell, if she is so injured then prove it."

"My word is not good enough?" It was coming to a head, all the little digs, the dismissals and disregard for advice the man asked for; and the position forced upon him. But now the man interfered with his wife, with his family.

"If Maggie is so ill then show me? Otherwise I might suspect you are only trying to strain my Queen." As the young man gloated, so sure that he was right Treville pulled at Maggie's corset; keeping her face pressed tightly into his chest.

"To be clear you are asking that I undress my wife in front of you?" At the man's unconcerned shrug he pulled the laces free and tore her shift down the back. He heard the collective gasp and saw the King falter; Maggie's back was far worse than what they had imagined; but they had no idea how much it had improved. "Let me be clear now. I resign my commission, effective immediately."

As the King's mouth fell open he heard Maggie's own protest as he bundled her into his arms and from the hall. Keeping her face buried as he strode past the Queen and her ladies. He was not a man prone to temper but they all knew Maggie's past, some knew more details than others, but they knew that she had risked her own life to defend the Queen more than once and still would humiliate her; would risk her for their own whims. He would tolerate many things but not that.

Treville lifted Maggie onto his horse and rode from the palace, his mind already putting a plan together. It was not the first time he had considered resigning, not by a long shot, as a minister to France he had remained a commissioned soldier; and he was more than eligible for retirement. There had been many frustrating days when resigning and retiring to the country had been an idea that flitted through his head. But whatever the King put him through he'd had a duty to the monarch, and he could take it; Maggie did not deserve to be treated so carelessly.

News would travel fast, he had every legal right to retire but the King was not likely to take it lying down and he wanted to be away before the man put any plans together. Dismounting in the yard he helped Maggie down and held her for a moment. "I am going to ready our cart, pack our things, take everything that is ours, the furniture stays other than the rocking chair we purchased when Jeanne Claire was born. We are leaving."

"Jean are you sure this is right? That it is what you want?"

"Yes, but without commission I have no right to live in the garrison. And our family will be better away from the city. Now hurry, I want to be away quickly." He watched for a moment as she hustled up the stairs, he had ruined yet another dress and had no doubt she would carefully patch it.

He would always be loyal to the King and to France, but he would not allow his wife to be trampled over in his duty. He could learn to live a different life, and perhaps a life without fighting would be better, simpler. Treville turned his attention to their departure and hitched the two horses he owned to the cart he purchased for their trip out to the estate, then ferried down the loads as Maggie prepared them.

The men watched in confusion, none daring to approach as he packed the cart carefully and then lifted Maggie up onto the bench and handed the children up to her. He had climbed up himself and gathered the reins as Athos rode in; the man's expression said that he had heard.

He paused as the man stopped alongside him. "You will make a fine Captain Athos, and you will handle the politics far better than I ever have. But if you ever need anything you know where to find me. I may be retired but I will always be a musketeer."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

They arrived at the estate late that night, Jean carried the children up to bed as soon as they arrived and then lit a fire before he began to ferry their things in. Maggie was quiet as she unpacked their belongings, he had given up his career and his position in the palace over her; and it made her feel sick.

It had all happened so suddenly, and he had been quiet as he drove out here. Maggie said nothing as he set the rocking chair next to the window and turned for the stairs, taking the bundle of the kids clothes and toys upstairs. They had always lived simply but as they unpacked she realized the majority of what they did have was for the children

They had little more than a few keepsakes, clothes and weapons a piece; and each other. But right now she wondered if that was enough, she knew Jean was financially stable, even without his commission he owned this land, he received rent from Rylan and had saved much of his earnings. But what would he be like without the musketeers? And his duties at the palace? Would he resent her for taking it from him?

She should have done a better job of hiding her feelings today but seeing the Queen, her belly swollen with the baby and asking Maggie to help her find its kicks had been like a kick in the gut. She had been toured through the new nursery and shown the various little clothes the Queen had already had made, should the baby be a boy or girl. Constance had given her a hand a reassuring squeeze when Maggie had tried to fade back but the woman had no idea that it was her surroundings and not her back that were hurting her.

But it wasn't worth Jean's career, she would adjust in time and it was not as though she was without a child. Jeanne and Marc were wonderful little ones, busy, inquisitive and oh so smart. And with the garrison and the children she was plenty busy to be thinking about another baby; if only she could get her heart on board with that.

"Stop worrying." Her husband's hand smoothed around her side, pulling her close to him. "It is not your fault, and we will have a fine life here."

"That is what you say now, but you have worked in that palace your whole life. I don't want you to have regrets." Maggie turned into him, letting him draw her up the stairs.

"My only regret is ruining another one of your dresses. The King needs a lesson on how he treats others, now he has one, and I am going to attend an issue he chose to neglect. It will be okay, I promise you that Maggie." He shook his head as he helped her out of it. "And don't worry about the King doing anything foolish, I was sixteen when I received my commission, the agreement has never been updated, I am well past my term of service. I left my uniform and all papers behind, he has no legal ground to recall or punish me and he will know it, however it is best we not leave France."

"Okay." Maggie murmured, the dress was easily fixable, but she still worried how her husband would feel in the morning and in a few days.

…

Anne was still in shock, at Maggie's back and the look in Treville's eyes, she had seen that fierce anger in his eyes, but it had never been directed at the King before; or at her. The look in his eyes had been cold fury and, in that moment, she realized he meant for her to never see her friend again.

Nervously she paced the main room of her quarters, waiting for Constance to return from the garrison. Her husband was in shock, he had retired to his own quarters and one of her maids reported that he had began drinking. Anne was scared, she knew her husband was and so were the musketeers.

The men had retreated to the garrison and she had sent Constance with them to learn what she could, but Anne could not wait patiently. Treville was not a rash man, he was patient, tolerant and even indulgent of Louis whims, what had pushed him to far this time? And was it her fault?

She had gone behind his back to send for Maggie today, Anne missed her and wanted her company. She'd had no idea Maggie's injuries were so severe, her friend had said nothing, but Anne had known she was uncomfortable.

Finally, the door opened, and Constance hurried in, Anne could tell it was bad by her eyes. "Are they at the garrison?"

"No, Anne." Constance drew her to the settee, her voice gentle. "No, there is more going on than I could tell you, I had hoped Maggie would confide in you herself."

"Where are they?" Anne demanded.

"I don't know, the men don't know for sure either; our best guess is they went to the estate. Treville spoke briefly to Athos as they left, said he would know how to find him and the only place the men know of is the estate near Maggie's brother." Constance spoke gently, but that reassured her, if the men knew where they were that meant in time she may be able to see Maggie again. "There is more, I couldn't tell you before, I only had suspicions and it was not my place."

"Tell me."

"When I went to check on Maggie, before we returned to Paris I met a woman in the village, I told her I was a friend of Maggie's and I needed direction to the estate house. She pointed the way but she made a comment that didn't make sense to me. She said how it was all such a shame, that a sweet little woman like Maggie deserved a whole house full of babies."

"She does." Anne frowned, Maggie was a wonderful and devoted mother, surely in time the young woman would have another.

"Anne that was not her meaning, I wasn't sure until Porthos told us today. When we were attacked on the road and Maggie was hurt; she was pregnant. They lost the child, Treville knew the day he captured the prisoners; he told Porthos when they rode to Paris. The woman in the village must have treated Maggie." There were tears in Constance's eyes and Anne felt her own throat tighten. "After very traumatic injuries I have heard of midwifes insisting a woman be careful about becoming pregnant, Maggie was pushed from a moving carriage and miscarried after; I had no idea how bad her back was. I think that was why Treville was keeping her at home."

"He was right to." She whispered quietly, no wonder Maggie hadn't seemed herself today and no wonder Treville had reacted so strongly, they had found his tipping point and it had been Maggie.

Anne remembered the days when the sight of a pregnant woman made her ache with emptiness and jealousy, but she had not lost a child because of another. If she had not stolen Maggie away from Treville that day the two would be celebrating a new child soon, or if the robbers had not been on the road maybe Maggie would have been telling them of her news today; instead of shaking in her husband's arms.

"What do we do? Louis will be lost without Treville; already he is drinking." Anne sighed as Constance shook her head.

"Right now, we should let them be." Constance said the last words she wanted to hear, but she knew, she knew her friend was right.

"Thank you, Constance, but now I need to try and speak to my husband." And that was going to be a challenge.

Anne knew how much Louis had been shocked this afternoon, Treville had been the one constant in his life since his father died. The soldier had defended his life countless times over the years, and in the past two had been a trusted and reliable confidant and advisor. Treville didn't play the political game, he was one of the only honest men in their court, he was loyal to the King and to France; and now he was gone.

Louis could be immature and rash, especially when he was drinking but even he knew they had no choice but to let Treville go. He had every right to resign his commission, any soldier did and as his promotions to minister had been given as orders based upon that position; and he had long since served his term. Treville knew many secrets of the court and had written a great deal of French policy and military strategy and Anne knew that he was still loyal to the military he had served. Anne figured that alone meant he would not leave France, and he would not take Maggie so far away.

She found her husband tucked away in his suite and well on his way to plastered. Anne sighed, moving to sit near him as he downed another glass of his liquor of choice. "What am I going to do without him?"

"You will keep going, you will lead France with everything Treville has given you over the years." Anne spoke gently.

"He can't leave me, he cannot leave." The man thrust his cup towards a servant and as the man refilled the cup again Anne took it, dismissing the servant with a nod.

"Louis I don't think he wanted to, I believe we drove him away, there was so much we didn't know; so much that they didn't tell us." And that was not unusual. "Really think Louis, I did and I know very little about Maggie and Treville's life, I don't know what they are doing on a day to day basis and I don't know what they are struggling with."

"It is not our concern, they work for us and while they are, they were our friends it does not matter." Louis swallowed back the drink.

"They lost a baby Louis, when Maggie was hurt she miscarried and now she can't have another. Louis we didn't know how bad her back was, but that wasn't why Treville was keeping her home." Anne held his hand, wondering if her husband understood what it meant for the couple.

"Your brother will be here within a week, if we go to war my minister for war will not match Treville. I want him here."

Finally, he leaned into her shoulder, silent and sad; his hand slid down to her belly. It was the first time he had reached to touch their child, either of their children when she was pregnant. He loved their son, loved him dearly but had been hesitant to know him for fear of loosing him; so far it had been much the same this time. Only now they had lost two key members of their support network.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Maggie couldn't deny that it was nice to be able to focus on her own house and children out here. Things were busy, but her workload had been reduced, she had a little more time with Jeanne and Marc and had begun the boy's lessons. He may have his heart set on soldiering one day, but a little book knowledge wouldn't go wrong, sitting in on her brother's lessons had certainly benefited her years ago. Jeanne was to young for it, but Maggie made her play quietly while Marc studied.

Jean was taking off somewhere each day, but he was making it home before she got the children fed each evening and she liked it. She was still worried that he was going to regret his decision at court, or that the King would interfere with their lives in retaliation for leaving him. Each night he spent time with children before she put them to bed, and she knew he was enjoying the time with them just as much as they were.

As she set his breakfast on the table she heard him coming in from the yard, knowing that meant that the chores were done, and he would want her to sit and eat with him before he took off. Marc and Jeanne had already been fed and were settled in the front room to play for a little while.

"I don't want you going any further than the river or the village Maggie and don't go without your weapons." He told her firmly as he sat, and Maggie nodded; now she knew what he had been working on for the past week or so. "I will be gone all day today, don't keep the children up."

"Okay. I don't have to go anywhere today." She could reassure him of that, he was snooping around the problem that seemed to plague this region and she wasn't surprised. Jean had not been impressed by the King's lack of interest in the issue.

…

Treville was aware that his wife was still worried that he had regrets about leaving the King's service and while things had changed he did not regret the decision. It was strange not to have to report to a CO or to the King, just as he felt strange without the uniform he had worn for so long; but it did not change who he was.

It was going to take more than a month to get used to it, even if he was busy with the estate and sorting out what was going on out here. As Maggie cleared the table Treville went out and saddled his horse, already he had spent weeks scouting the countryside, he had found more than one hideout where the men laid in wait to rob unexpecting travellers; but no camp.

He no longer disrupted the hideouts, instead he waited, tracking them between hideouts and hoping one would lead him back to a base camp. They didn't, and he noted their takes seemed light, people were wise to what was going on and not willing to lose what they had easily. He knew the camp would be well hidden and as he became more familiar with the area he was getting a better sense of what he was looking for.

Going deep into the hills this morning he scouted towards the river, working a hunch. When the take was money the men went to their various holes, he had yet to witness when they took human cargo, but he had his suspicions but with so many crews working he knew he hadn't seen it all; it was too organized.

As he let his horse have its head and listened, if he heard birds and wildlife he was nowhere near any human settlement. But he watched for trails and signs that people had come through here, up this way the main traffic was likely to be hunters looking for game; he could have had couple nice sized deer today.

As the sun crossed the sky he hit a point where he had to turn back, he was fine with a late evening, but he wasn't camping out here tonight. He would come back tomorrow and make it all the way to the river, it was remote with a second method of transport out of the area; it was something he would look for in a camp.

Riding back into the village he frowned at a group outside a shack on the outskirts. He paused as someone shouted into the doorway, the cart out front was loaded with tin and he dismounted; he hadn't seen them here before. As Sarah, Maggie's new friend came charging down he reined his horse around. "Don't you touch her, you let that child go."

He swung down before the woman could get into the scuffle. "What is going on?"

"Mind your own business." The man snarled, Treville grabbed his arm, gripping and twisting until the girl he dragged from the house tumbled free between them. Grabbing her quickly he pushed her behind him, towards Sarah.

"This is my land, it is my business." Treville ignored the curses hurled at him, having heard far worse before.

"I am owed payment, and I will have it." His words had the hairs on the back of Treville's neck standing up, was the child payment?

"How much?" He was too tired for this and disgusted by the man in front of him. The price named was pitifully low, and he handed over the cheap coins. "Don't come back here."

He turned to find the young girl curled into Sarah's side and his temper softened as he eyed the girl and the shack she had come from. The roof was more of an idea than any shelter and the doorway had only a sheet hanging in it. Treville had ridden past this place many times but had thought it abandoned.

"Her father was killed in an accident a year or so ago, her mother was injured and has not been well." Sarah said by way of explanation. "She does odd work, bringing men water in the fields and such but since Monsieur Antoniou expanded and hired more workers she is not needed."

Treville nodded, he stepped into the single room hut and glanced up, he could see the sunset through the roof, a woman lay on a narrow cot and her legs damaged in a way he had seen before when men were pinned beneath a wheel or cart. He could guess what kind of accident it had been, the woman was lucky to be alive.

"What is your name little one?" It was his wife who was natural with children, but he crouched down to her level and tried.

"Sophie." A little voice answered.

"Come up to the house tomorrow morning, you will work for my wife." Maggie wouldn't have the heart to work the girl very hard, but it would see that the child got two meals a day and a little coin to live on.

If this village could thrive it would help Rylan's business to, and that meant giving people a little bit of hope; it was good for all of them. He left the child with Sarah and headed home, he had to inform Maggie she now had a helper; it was late enough his children would be asleep.

Stabling the horse, he headed up to find his wife, the day had not been as productive as he had hoped. But stepping into the warm kitchen and seeing two places laid out on the table was good. "Where are you Mags?"

"Marc is antsy, he did his best to wait up for you." Maggie sighed as she came down the stairs into the back of the kitchen. "I hope you are hungry, Sarah came up today and we were sharing recipes."

They sat down to eat, and he was hungry, it had been a long day. He listened as Maggie told him about the children's antics today and the time she had spent with Sarah. As his wife cleaned up he brought in firewood and water for the morning, when she was done he wanted to go to bed.

As he unlaced Maggie's corset and pulled out her hair pins his wife leaned back against his chest. Treville rubbed her arms and tucked her into him, Maggie snuggled into his side and he smiled as he ran his fingers through her long hair, drifting off.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

As he finished the morning chores he glanced up through the barn doors and saw the young girl approaching the house and winced; he had forgotten to tell Maggie that she had a helper. He had wanted to go back into the hills today, but it wasn't going to happen; that little family needed a roof.

Treville headed up to the house and found Maggie eyeing the girl who looked at her in confusion. "Mags, this is Sophie, she and her mama live in the village; her mama can't work. She can help with your household chores. Marc why don't you show Sophie the house?"

Marc greeted Sophie and slid from his seat to take her upstairs, Maggie watched them go. "I assume she needs the job more than I need the help?"

"Yes, and she needs to learn a few things to survive. Her father died in an accident and her mother is crippled, someone needs to teach her. I'll fix up their home today, and I may get back into the hills."

"You have a bigger heart than you admit." Maggie shook her head and wrapped her arms around him, for a moment he just held her; his wife didn't count the things he'd done in war.

Treville left Maggie to handle the children and headed down to the shack on the edge of the village and found he wasn't the only one down there. Two other men scoped out the building as he drove the cart up with lumber left over from the renovations to their house. He knew both, but not much more than their names and that they worked for Rylan.

One approached and offered his hand, Treville knew it was Sarah's husband. "We will help, the foreman does not need us until later."

"I appreciate it." He had basic skills, but he knew these men would be handier than him.

The three of them had a new roof and door on the little home in a matter of hours, it wasn't fancy, but it was waterproof and secure. He let the two men go in to speak to the woman trapped in her bed, they knew her, and he wanted to drop the cart at the barn and get back out into the hills.

It was nearly noon by the time he was back in the woods, and he worked through the low hills and followed the river he knew he was in the right area; things were too quiet. Treville rode on for a time before he came to a foot trail leading up a steep hill.

Dismounting he moved off the trail and followed its winding route towards a narrow valley between two hills. Had he stayed on the trail he would have walked right into it, and when he spotted a lookout he stopped; he'd found the camp.

Turning deeper into the underbrush he climbed the hill from the side and found a place to hide his horse. Creeping to the edge of the rise he prowled the area before settling down on his belly to watch. It was not well guarded but was established, the sentries were too close to the camp and visible to occupants; perhaps those in charge knew not to trust their men.

Most of the men sat around a table near the back in the shade of a big tree, women, some hardly more than children were tied up throughout the camp. As he scanned the faces his heart clenched, any of these women could have been his own wife or France's Queen two months ago; but one was of equal nobility though not of France at least not any more.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

The girl was bound and bent she should work hard but Maggie knew Jean hadn't given her a job because they needed the help but as an excuse to ensure she and her mother were fed. At nine Maggie had known enough responsibility herself, tending her brother and trying to shield him from her father's temper but she had secretly loved caring for Rylan and tasked Sophie with keeping Jeanne busy at the table while she gave Marc his lessons.

Sophie had helped her with laundry and the noon meal this morning, when they finished the lessons she would send the girl home and get her children ready for their supper. Jean had lost part of his workday today, so she figured he would be late again tonight.

As she watched Sophie run home, a little napkin with some bread and cheese in it that she hadn't eaten for her lunch clutched in her hand Maggie saw Sarah approaching. The woman stopped to greet the girl before meeting her on the step. "I made my Lorne go down to help your man with their roof, he was back before noon; she should be pleased when she gets home."

"That's good, she is a sweet girl. Come in, the children can play a little longer before I get their supper." And Maggie wanted to visit, that was one thing she missed about Paris, with Evelynn at the garrison and Anne always summoning her to the palace she'd gotten used to having company and people to talk to.

"I was thinking to go picking berries tomorrow. Do you think Sophie could mind your two for a time?" Sarah settled in opposite her in the kitchen as Maggie checked on Marc and Jeanne playing with blocks in the other room.

"I am sure she could, but they would like the adventure, I will have to speak to Jean first; he is still concerned about highway robbers."

"There haven't been any folks go missing since you two moved out here, he is always out and about on that horse and folks know he used to guard the King; none are fool enough to cross him. Those robbers don't want to take on a soldier, and with one prowling about they aren't so confident about bothering us around here." Sarah spoke confidently but Maggie knew her husband, he wouldn't be confident or satisfied until he had the culprits in the gaol.

"I will speak to him, I am sure he will be okay if we go out in the morning; though he may insist I take…" She paused as she heard boots on the step, if he was home early he wouldn't be pleased that she hadn't started supper.

"Mags!" Jean's voice echoed through the room, she saw Sarah startle and hid her smirk, the tone that had more than one woman feel sorry for her at how her husband yelled; when in truth it meant he needed her.

As she crossed to the door she saw a track of mud across the room and Sophie hustling towards her. "Monsieur said I should tend the children."

"Yes, they're playing in the next room." Maggie frowned as she followed the trail of dirt towards her husband, he never forgot his boots, so he must be in a mighty rush. "What is going on Jean?"

"Get your sword and gather all my weapons. I'll need you to drive the cart and I need someone to mind it. I will have to find someone in the village." He had grabbed one of the barrels of powder and his shot belt, she hadn't seen him wear since they left Paris; and he usually only wore it when he was escorting the King.

"I can help." Sarah spoke from behind them, and as Jean shook his head, ready to protest the woman cut him off. "I can mind a cart and am as harmless as can be, if you are going up into those woods to hunt someone and need a cart I know it is bad; I go up there quite often and people know me. You tell me where to go and no one even has to suspect you are with me, I will be gathering firewood or berries and herbs."

"Fine, that is a good idea. I need Maggie to fight with me." Jean didn't hesitate as he grabbed several empty bottles from the shelf; ignoring the shocked look Sarah shot at her.

Jean didn't like to ask her to fight so she knew it was serious, and she strapped on her sword, tucked an extra dagger into the belt and hooked on the pistol and shot pouch he handed her. First, he explained to Sarah where to go and then mounted and helped her up behind him; within moments he had left Sarah behind.

Maggie held tightly to her husband's waist as he guided the horse off the road and into the woods. The horse was used to Jean and to rough terrain, Maggie was not and leaned into his back to avoid being scratched by branches or knocked off by tree limbs.

Finally, he stopped the horse, ground tying the animal in the shelter of trees at the edge of a clearing. He left her with the horse and disappeared into the darkness, he was gone for a few moments before reappearing silently beside her; Maggie nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Stay quiet and stay low." He spoke next to her ear as he led her uphill in the darkness.

Near the crest of the hill he stopped and pulled her down, before letting her ease up next to him. They lay on their bellies looking into a gully where a camp had been built. Tied to stumps and roots throughout the gulley there were about twenty women and children, some in tatters, thin and pale.

"Mags I know you want to help all of them, and if we can we will but that woman must get out first." Jean pointed to a cluster tied to a stump near the base of the hill, they were near a fire and it was hard to see clearly in the flickering light and smoke. "She is the Spanish Queen and Louis' younger sister."

Maggie gulped hard. "How did they get her?"

"I don't know, but we need to get her out before camp breaks, and before Spain goes to war over it." Jean spoke softly as he fiddled with a bottle he had filled with powder and shot, he eased a wick into the top and wrapped a piece of cloth around the neck. "This will keep most of the guards busy, I'll give you cover, get her up here, zigzag as you run and then come back and get as many as you can."

She knew what he wasn't saying, any of the guards here who survived Jean's attack would not live for long; and he would do whatever he had to too get that woman out. When he lit the bottle, she tried not to ease away as he held it while the wick burned down, lobbing it towards the table at the back where many of the men sat. The bottle exploded into flames as it landed in the middle and Jean went skidding over the rise and into the chaos without hesitation.

Maggie faltered a moment before following, she was not as fearless as him. But he had created chaos, lanterns on the table had been destroyed, alcohol fed the flames that licked at the small shelter and no one knew what had happened. There were half a dozen men who were still mobile, and one had already met Jean and lost; he wasn't taking chances tonight.

Skidding down the rise Maggie watched as any men who had been on guard duty abandoned their post, trying to put out the fire and help their friends, not reaching for their weapons; she wondered if they realized it had been an explosive or if they thought a lamp had been knocked over. Her dagger was ready, and as she hurried down the hill she landed in front of the royal she had never met.

The woman's eyes widened for a moment as Maggie cut her ropes and offered her hand. "Go up the hill, take it on an angle."

Maggie let her go first, knowing if the woman was in front of her and someone fired than they were not as likely to hit the Queen. As soon as they were over the hill Maggie led the woman back to where they had left the horse and found Sarah sitting on the cart next to where Jean had ground tied their horse. Breathing a sigh of relief Maggie turned back; she wanted to get as many people out of that horrible place as possible.

Racing back down the hill Maggie was met by a man who moved to grab her, letting him get an arm around her as her dagger slid into his belly, squeezing her eyes shut she twisted the blade and jerked up. Truly she hated this, but she hated what he had done to these people more; and she knew what Jean would say.

His body went slack, and Maggie slipped out from his grip, she didn't see as many men on their feet and she didn't see Jean. She didn't lead people out, she cut ropes and pointed them in the right direction and told them to go until they found the cart, knowing Sarah would be looking.

Some were so stiff from being restrained they staggered as they rose, but the idea of freedom moved them, and they leaned on each other. Wherever Jean was he had drawn the guards away from them and as she freed the last, a pretty young girl so thin and frail the woman leaned heavily on her as Maggie helped her up the hill and away from the camp.

She arrived at the cart to find Sarah and the Queen helping women climb up into the cart. As she passed the woman leaning on her up to Sarah she glanced around. "Have you seen Jean?"

"No, Maggie what was down there?" Sarah helped the woman up and rubbed the poor thing's arms as she settled her next to another. Maggie felt her throat tighten as Sara wrapped her own shall around her.

She could only shake her head, in truth she didn't want to know what those men had planned to do; only that it was evil. Her eyes scanned the shadows, she wanted to wait for Jean, but she knew he what he wanted. "We need to go. Jean will catch up with us, with his horse he will cut cross country."

Sarah nodded, and Maggie climbed up onto the bench next to her. Maggie felt sick to her stomach as Sarah turned the cart and Maggie lit the lantern, as light danced into the shadows her husband did appear and she finally breathed out. He dragged a bound man with him, and in the darkness, she saw that his jaw was dangerously set; he was angry.

Living with him for so much time she could recognize his moods without words, this offended everything he believed in. And she knew he hated the way the women in the cart cowered in the presence of the men, he hefted the bound man onto the back of his horse and nodded for them to move out as he swung up himself.

The ride back was slow, Jean drew alongside the cart for a moment and they eyed each other, she was checking him for injuries and knew he was doing the same. He was sprayed in blood and some of it was his, instinctively she reached for him. He caught her hand and gave it a squeeze before pulling ahead, his eyes scanning the road around them and his body alert.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

As they entered the village he realized something was very wrong, no one was out about and he as they approached the house he saw Lorne standing outside the door, Sophie sat on the step and she looked up and shrank back from him; eyes huge with fear. Lorne approached him, seeing the two women driving the cart, Treville considered that the man might not be happy with him putting his wife at risk.

Sarah had volunteered, and he hadn't wanted to wait to find someone else. The woman went where she wanted most of the time and generally made her own decisions; he still should have spoken to Lorne. Treville dismounted and moved to him but the man moved forward; taking hold of his horse's reins.

"Treville, what is going on?" The man eyed his prisoner as Treville hauled him away from the cart that had rolled to a stop and the girl sitting on the step. "Who are they and what has happened to the poor things?"

"Found a camp in the foothills near the river. I figured there had to be a post somewhere what with people just disappearing. I enlisted Sarah's help impulsively, they had an important hostage." He fastened the man's bindings to the fence post, to keep him out of the way while the women made their way to the house.

"For the King? The Red Guards were here, not long after you left." His words made Treville turn to face him fully; there was fear in the other man's face. "They took the children with them."

"They took Jeanne and Marc?" There was panic in Maggie's voice, she stood frozen in the box of the cart; he felt something inside himself freeze up.

"Sophie didn't know what to do, she came running down as soon as they mounted up." Lorne explained, and he glanced at the girl, realizing her fear wasn't just from the sight before her.

"It's not her fault. They want me to go to Paris; and they've guaranteed I will." And it would be the last time, twice now the King had interfered in his household, once with his wife and now his children.

"We both know why, but I never thought my brother to be such a fool. I will go with you Captain Treville, I am sure I can arrange a negotiation." Elisabeth was King Louis closest sibling, only a year younger than him, and she had always had a strong attitude.

"I will return you to Paris Majesty and collect my children, but I do not believe the King thought of such a maneuver." It had Richelieu written all over it, and the man was arrogant enough to think he could talk his way through it. But if there was ever a woman to take him on it was Elisabeth, married at thirteen, as Louis took a Spanish Queen the young Spanish heir took a French one.

"Your horses are tired, hitch ours to the cart. We will help your wife with the guests." Lorne spoke nodding towards their wives; Sarah had already enfolded Maggie into a hug.

He nodded numbly, he was grubby and tired himself, he did not want to drive through the night to Paris. But this could not wait, and he helped Lorne exchange the horses and climbed up onto the bench as Lorne opened the back to help the Queen in, the woman walked around the box and climbed up onto the bench beside him. Lorne hauled their prisoner over and heaved him up into the box instead.

"Anne speaks highly of your young wife and misses her dearly; she will be disappointed you only bring me." The Queen settled beside him as they set out, not phased by the crude means of transport.

"I won't be staying long." Maggie would be beside herself until the little ones were back in their home and that meant she would work herself to the bone. Getting the children back might satisfy his wife but he didn't think it would soothe the anger inside of him.

"I've heard why you left the King's service, believe it or not I remember you, when I was a girl. I had a fascination of sorts with all the musketeers, but I never saw you fight back then. Whenever there was any sort of trouble we were shut away. I can't say I have enjoyed this adventure, though that rescue was daring." The Queen wanted to talk, and he craved silence. "I have however become adept at politics; the idea of our rulers meeting was a good one. However, it may only delay the inevitable."

"Delay is in the interest of both our countries, but until either court learns to respect the other war will always be on the horizon." He knew Spain had its own troubles with unrest, thousands had been displaced when the moors were exiled, and other political powers liked to see what they could stir up.

"A smart man, now you no longer serve my brother and that is a shame however your talents should not be wasted out on an estate in the country. My husband could use a man of such military and political experience, his own advisor is a poor excuse for a man." Elisabeth was studying him and Treville steadied his shoulders, he wanted to sigh.

"I served France with all of my youth, my standing in the King's guard may be over but I will always be loyal to King Louis. And we both know I would not live long in Spain, a mysterious injury or illness would kill me quickly, and possibly my family; that is something I would never risk." Treville stared straight ahead, the woman had learned the political game and she moved fast.

He was thankful as the wind picked up and the Queen hunkered down in the cloaks Maggie and Sarah had abandoned in the cart; the rest of the drive was quiet. As they approached the city the Queen climbed over the bench and back into the box without a word. Treville glanced back to ensure the prisoner was not near her, it wasn't his place to question the man and he no longer cared about it; the King would be forced to address the issue now.

As he tied the horses to a post outside the gates the Queen climbed down, still wrapped in the ragged cloaks she had huddled in for warmth. "Do not tell my brother you have found me, simply demand your children; let me handle Louis. If he is stubborn my Phillip will force his hand."

Treville did not argue with her, he was not going to get into the politics between brother and sister. The guards let him pass and even though it was late at night he headed for the library where he knew Richelieu and the King would be if they were working late. As the doors were pulled open for him he found far more than the King and his advisor, but Queen Anne, King Phillip of Spain and Athos as well as several advisors.

"Treville I knew you would come." Louis rose, relief and joy mixed in his face. "Something horrible has happened."

"Yes, I am sure you did, but I've come only for my children." It was not a hard bet to make that a man would come to find his children, and any who knew him knew what his family meant to him. Had Maggie been home they likely would have taken her as well; and that would not have gone well.

"Your children?" The King deflated slightly and glanced at Richelieu, he caught Athos looking between him and the King; his replacement didn't know.

"Ah yes, there is that. I assure you they are well and safe." Cardinal Richelieu looked somewhat uncomfortable as all eyes fixed on him; Treville studied the King. He hadn't known.

"You took Jeanne and Marc from their home?" This came from Anne, the only one in the room likely to remember his children's names. "Cardinal what have you done with them?"

"They are being tended, they were in no danger. Treville was not home when my men paid a visit and we need his help. I ensured we would have it."

"No, you didn't. I've come for my children, I've little care for your problems." He glared at the Cardinal, the man's words were far from true, he was not above killing a child for his own agenda.

"Cardinal, bring the man his children." The King spoke quietly and when the man hesitated he continued. "I made my wishes quite clear, about this and about Treville. Do not complicate this further."

He said nothing, silence fell in the room until a guard appeared escorting one of the Queen's ladies, beside her Marc carried Jeanne-Claire. Seeing him the boy nearly tumbled over as he scrambled towards him, Treville caught them both as he covered the distance in a couple strides. His daughter was pinned against his hip as Marc wrapped both arms around his legs.

Carefully he extracted the crying toddler and settled her up on his hip, murmuring gently to soothe her; his hand rested on the back of Marc's head. "Are you hurt?"

The boy's head shook but remained buried in his leg. He looked Jeanne-Claire over as well, her cries had subsided, but big blue eyes were still watery, and a small fist had a tight grip on his coat. Saying nothing more he turned to leave, Marc holding tight to his belt scampered eagerly beside him.

"Wait, you must help us Treville. It is my sister…" The King pleaded as he headed for the doorway.

"And I cautioned you on the issue of highway robbers months ago, I have another one for you; his conspirators did not survive." He reached for the door handle as a guard made to block his path; Treville stared the man down. And he held the door open for Elisabeth who stood on the other side. She entered as he exited, and he heard the shocked exclamations as they realized she was safe.

He returned to the cart, handed his prisoner off to a pair of palace guards who shadowed him and began the long journey home. Marc insisted on staying up on the bench and lasted all of five minutes before falling asleep, he settled the boy in the back with Jeanne-Claire and left the city.

Perhaps Treville did miss parts of his life at the palace, he would have sent his men to handle the issue the Cardinal had bungled, he wouldn't have wasted time with the issue in the first place. A team of musketeers should have been dispatched as soon as the Spanish Queen went missing, perhaps they had been, but he didn't know. He didn't even know how she had fallen into such hands. Now he had to consider whether he wanted to find out. If France were to continue to rely on the Cardinal's brand of politics war was not just on the horizon it would be coming soon.

But as he no longer served and was retired after so many years he would not be called up, he had to consider what effect it would have on him. Unless France was conquered his own family was at little risk, they lived far from the border and a good distance from the capitol. And France had the advantage right now of limited civil unrest; Louis' challengers had been pushed back when their last attempts failed so miserably and so many had been executed or died in the fighting; it would take some time for them to regroup. If Gaston, the King's younger brother and Marie de Medici were alive there would be some opposition brewing, but those two would wait for an opportune moment. However, he had to wonder if he really had any choice in it, would the court continue to interfere in his life until he returned?


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

In pitch darkness he unhitched the cart, stabled the horses and hefted his sleeping children into his arms. He was exhausted and sore, climbing the steps he entered the house quietly though lanterns were still lit, and he found his wife and her friend at the kitchen table. With a muted squeak Maggie wrapped her arms around him and the children and held on tightly.

"They're okay, they slept most of the ride home." He told her gently, relinquishing Jeanne-Claire into her arms; Marc was a bit heavy for her to carry around.

"I gave up their beds, there should be enough space in ours." She told him as he followed her up the stairs and watched as she tucked the two into their bed.

When she stepped back he wrapped his arms around her and held her for a few moments. He wanted to believe they could have a peaceful life here, but after today he wondered if it was possible. For a time, they just stood there, he knew they were both glad their children were safe; and it was comforting to watch them sleep oblivious to what was happening around them.

Finally, he stripped off his weapons and joined her downstairs, Lorne had joined Sarah from somewhere and they began to fill him in. Several of the women had already been returned to their families, and from what he heard the reunions had been joyful. The ones who remained, two sleeping in their children's beds and the rest on bedrolls made up in the dining room, were not local as best that they could determine. Whether they would get to go home or not remained to be seen.

They all had similar stories, abducted from the road, some when their families or carriages had been robbed and others had simply been walking from one place to another. The longest any of them had been in the camp was two weeks; except for one. Maggie and Sarah could not understand her, she barely spoke, and the others said she had been there when they arrived; she was also in the worst condition.

As the two women began to bake for the morning he sat with Lorne, finishing a drink and discussing how to find the women's families; there was a knock on the door. He opened it to find Porthos and Aramis standing on the step.

…

She thought the two musketeers looked relieved when Jean invited them in, and she wondered what had happened at the palace. Jean had said nothing beyond that the children were safe, and he had returned without the Queen, so he assumed that meant he had found her party as well. In truth she didn't want to know, she was just thankful Jeanne and Marc were home and safe.

But she was interested in what this business was, what with both the French Queen and a visiting royal being attacked, months apart and by the same group. Finally, the King had taken interest, at dawn Jean was taking the two musketeers out to see where he had found the Queen. Athos and D'Artagnan had continued to pay a visit to Ninon LaRoche and learn what she knew.

Early in the morning Marc came downstairs and she sat him at the table with warm bread and a cup of milk as the men got ready to depart. Jean came down the stairs, strapping on his sword and Marc frowned, watching silently as he went with the two men.

Marc had his heart set on being a soldier, but he didn't seem sure when the two men greeted him today; she hoped his experience with the Red Guards didn't change how he felt about soldiering. They were a poor representation at best. It was men like Aramis and Porthos he needed to learn from.

As the women woke up the day became busier, she and Sarah talked to the women trying to learn where they were from and if they had any family to contact. Then the challenging task of doing so began, many the women lived in small communities within a few hours drive and so Lorne and Sarah loaded them into the cart and left to ferry them home; she sent word to Rylan that he was sparing Lorne from work a few days.

And the news was spreading as she had several families turn up at her door mid morning, two went away disheartened while the other set off home at a hard pace to meet the cart that had left before they arrived. Her children watched all this quietly, Marc was observing it all and Maggie knew she or Jean needed to explain it to him; Jeanne didn't grasp it. By the end of the day there were only four women left, three had no family to return to or no desire to go back to their circumstances and the one that they knew nothing about.

Rylan turned up in the early afternoon and after the initial shock of finding four young women sitting at her table, all of whom cowered as he walked in, asked what he could do. He was asking what had happened as well but was not willing to do so in front of them. Maggie had an idea, there was something he could do, and it would give the three who had no where to go a chance.

Pulling her brother aside she pitched her idea. "You could hire them to work at your house, it is big, I am sure they could learn some job. They've been through so much already."

He looked less than convinced and glanced between her and the kitchen. "They are terrified of me."

"They have been through something horrible Rylan, they have no where to go and no one to turn to. They were afraid of Jean too, and he risked his life to help them." Maggie argued.

"I don't know how he did it, or how you did Maggie." Her brother eyed her cautiously, she knew he didn't understand it; he didn't have the code Jean did. But he had never been exposed to the world the way her husband had, he hadn't seen what she had either; and for that reason, she was glad that Jean had moved out here.

"Well it is done, but until they have some security they are no better off now then they were being held prisoner." They had no need of help to maintain their home and the people who lived in the community lived in small homes and worked hard for what they made. Rylan may not necessarily need more help, but he could afford it; and she knew how to sway her little brother.

"I suppose, but I don't like them shrinking away from me. I won't hurt anyone." Her brother was likely younger than at least one of them and still getting used to taking charge.

"They cower from Jean too Rylan, they have been hurt by men. Be kind, and be gentle and smile, you are handsome when you smile." She smiled as he blushed, Maggie had gotten her way; now she just had to learn what she could about the other one.

Maggie arranged for the women to go down to Rylan's, he had proper servant's quarters that were mostly empty as his staff lived in the nearby village. That way the women would have actual beds to sleep in and some privacy. That left her with one guest who she knew nothing about, but they had one spare room and until they knew her story Maggie wasn't going to give up on her.

Jean was gone all day with the men and as dusk fell Marc took up position at the window looking out towards the stable. The boy waited for over three hours, only leaving his spot when Maggie asked him to set the table; and without being told he set two extra spots.

She didn't try to feed the kids early, they needed to see their Papa tonight and she was content having them in her line of sight. Hesitantly the Florence joined them, and Jeanne crawled up into her lap, as her daughter chattered about something or other she saw the woman smile for the first time.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

Dinner laid out on the table and the children sitting in their spots was a welcome sight after a long day in the bush. There were spots for the men, Maggie always seemed to be able to anticipate guests and she had lots of food. The woman who sat next to her shifted uncomfortable but ate eagerly, Porthos sat across from her and passed her half his roll when she finished hers.

Treville smirked into his own bowl, Porthos was somewhat of a rough sort but he had a gentle heart; and the man knew what hardship was. Aramis entertained the children with stories well after the meal ended and had both fighting to stay awake as he finished his story. Having them here did make him miss the garrison; or at least parts of it.

That evening the men bunked down in the room that had been full of terrified women yesterday, and he climbed the stairs to crawl in beside Maggie utterly exhausted; and not the least bit surprised to find she had Jeanne-Claire tucked into her side. Their little girl sprawled out over a good chunk of the bed, sound asleep and unconcerned that the tiniest person had most of the space. Maggie nestled herself into his chest and he thought that tomorrow would likely be a long one too before he slept soundly.

He woke before his wife and daughter did, sliding quietly from the bed he lifted Jeanne-Claire from the bed and returned her to her own. Gently easing back in beside his wife who had instinctively rolled onto her belly, a habit learned while her back healed. Carefully he unfastened the ties of her night gown and pushed the fabric aside, tracing his fingers over the scars there; he wished he could take the pain they'd caused her. Maggie squirmed a little as he pressed a kiss to the back of her neck.

"Jean, they don't hurt anymore." Her voice was soft, and he ran his hands over her. "I only wish it hadn't meant I can't give you another child."

"It doesn't matter Mags, we've two already, now this is just for us." And for a time he took her into his arms, taking a few moments just for them, making her his again.

Finally, he rose to go out and start chores but downstairs he found Porthos sitting up at the kitchen table with the woman they had hardly gotten to speak. Neither of them were speaking now, they just sat quietly across from each other.

Frowning he headed out to the stable and tended the livestock, aware that when he came in the house would be bustling as Maggie got breakfast and the two soldiers planned to rejoin Athos and D'Artagnan to take the search further along the river looking for more camps and some answers. The general consensus was for straight answers they needed to corner the local magistrate, but that was not yet an option; at least not without proof.

When he returned the kitchen was busy, Sophie had turned up and was helping with breakfast, Jeanne- Claire had gotten her hands on a wooden spoon that Maggie may have been using to cook which she gleefully delivered to him. Aramis and Porthos had Marc cornered as the boy tried to muscle his way between them and bouncing off as they deflected him.

Returning the spoon to his wife he scooped Jeanne- Claire up onto his hip to keep her out of mischief. Before they sat down Athos and D'Artagnan turned up and Maggie set the table for them in the dining room, settling the children and Florence at the kitchen table so they could talk business.

The men discussed what they had learned and against his better judgement he leaned against the wall and listened. It was easy not to think about it when he was out here with his family and away from the dealings of the regiment but when they sat in his living room and asked his opinion it was difficult.

"Other than ransom, what could anyone gain from abducting the Queen?" Focusing on any one motive when dealing with the monarchy was never good. "One might be a coincidence, but an attempt on a Queen who should never even be in the country?"

"She wasn't travelling in Queen Anne's carriage, it was her own procession. Our Queen was not feeling well enough to travel to the hunting lodge. The Kings rode ahead, the regiment was guarding them, the red guards and the Spanish escorted the Queen; they were better prepared this time." D'Artagnan answered, summing up what Porthos and Aramis had told him yesterday.

"They stick to the same region, it is well known that the King's hunting lodge is in Versailles, and that he enjoys hunting and entertaining. It was no secret that he wanted to show it off." The dry observation came from Athos, command was wearing heavy on him already; Treville knew all to well the demands the King was placing on him. "They took on the carriage rather than the mounted riders. Take either King and negotiations are off the table, the ladies they will pay for."

"The Kings had a heavy guard, but the carriages had luggage, I didn't recover it. Were they looking for Anne, their visitor or to rob them? You knew that they will abduct when it suits them, I share your suspicions about the Magistrate, but we have no proof. My next thought is the incident with Anne wasn't to far off this visit. Is it possible this is simply an opportunity someone took advantage of? Spies will use any resources available to them, Spain is not as stable as it was." That his mind went into those places was a reason he was glad to be out, but he saw treachery in everything. "Where was Balthazar?"

The men glanced between each other for a moment. "With his father. Do you think they are that smart?"

"I think the dauphin remained with his mother as a toddler is not going to the hunting lodge; that is common sense. And no, it is not intelligence I credit them with, if the Spanish monarchy was the target the most valuable piece would be the heir who is also most vulnerable; they had the Queen tied up with the peasants they had abducted from the road. If they knew who she was she would have been more heavily guarded and alone." As it stood the woman could give reputable testimony and France had no choice but to meet her every whim after such a scandal.

"If it was the boy they wanted it would have been smarter to wait for the hunt and make sure the boy had an accident and died. If they want to abduct him pop the kid off the horse and run the horse over a ridge and toss the nearest guard over to make it look like he went over after the boy."

"It would be pretty smooth." Porthos nodded. "Lots of cover in the woods, the Kings are usually drunk, so they have our focus and the chase can get spread out."

"Seriously?" D'Artagnan spoke impulsively and was fixed with a look from the other three who were considering it; the kid still had his moments. He knew it was a dark way of thinking, but to adequately protect the King he had to think as his enemies would.

"An impulsive young boy acts in excitement, riding to fast, the nearest guard attempts to save him and fails, a steep ravine, ideally rocky or with a river. Body may take some time to find or may never be found, dead horse, dead guard; boy assumed dead. It would buy enough time to get away with the child." Treville had considered such things, but he had been thinking of Marie de Medici's old ploy for the King's own accident and her goals for power.

"That being said the King still intends to entertain at the lodge. They failed, and if they did want the boy they have a second chance." Treville heard the wince in Athos' voice. "We best move out."

The other three nodded and rose, ideally, they would intercept the King before his adventure but if that was not possible they would have to ensure they sent plenty of scouts in a wide net around the hunting party. He would keep the hunting party in a close unit with the carriages, even if the King complained, he would argue the Queen would feel more secure with them nearby, maximize the coverage and have men he trusted in key positions in the formation.

Three filed out, but Athos paused. "We won't make it to Paris before they leave. Would you consider coming with us?"

"Yes." The answer was reflexive and as he turned and caught his wife's eye he saw her nod; Maggie understood. But when he looked to Marc the boy turned and raced for the stairs.

"They need you, I will see to Marc." Maggie told him with a soft smile.

…

Jean sometimes forgot the Marc did not understand things, it had taken her some time to get to know the man she had been married to. Marc was only a child, and a child who had known the world to be a cruel place. Maggie found the young boy at an upstairs window, watching Jean ride out with his men; and that was what Marc didn't grasp.

The boy might be set on being a soldier but right now he was still a child, and sometimes a boy needed some comfort. Maggie sat with him and watched as the men disappeared, knowing if he was allowed Marc would sit at that window until Jean returned; for a few moments she just wrapped her arms around him.

She had no doubt his encounter with the red guards, who were vastly different from the soldiers he knew, had scared him. He knew that Jean had left his post, but Maggie couldn't explain Jean's lifestyle to the boy, his honor code ran deep and that needed to come from him.

"Will you come downstairs? I suspect Porthos and Aramis will be back tonight, and we will need to have some supper ready for them." She picked out the two who enjoyed entertaining him the most, knowing Aramis and Marc had a special bond; Aramis had served with his father.

"Papa didn't have to go." Marc said sadly, taking her hand to comply.

"No, but when you were scared who did you want most?" That answer should be easier, some of the younger musketeers might be stronger and faster; but Jean was fierce and smart. "The King wasn't much older than you when Papa started protecting him, giving up a job doesn't mean he stops caring. And he cares deeply for those men, he's trained some of them for longer than you have been alive."

"What if he gets hurt?" Marc asked, stopping on the stairs, forcing Maggie to turn back to him.

"Than we must take care of him, and we have to know he believes what he is doing is right." She wasn't going to sugar coat it for the boy, because whenever Jean went to fight she had the same fear and Marc was old enough to understand there was danger for the man who had adopted him. "And for now, you mustn't think on that, they will be home before you know it."

"Will we have to go back to Paris?"

"That will be up to Papa." But Maggie suspected in time they would end up back there, at least occasionally.

She set him up kneading a batch of dough and endeavored to keep everyone busy enough today that the didn't have time to worry too much. The sun was high in the sky when a lone woman came up from the river, Maggie recognized her easily this time; Ninon de Larroque was back.

She knew Athos and D'Artagnan had been out that way yesterday; she wondered why the woman had made the journey again. Maggie opened the door and went out to greet her, hoping she hadn't come to say there had been more attacks. She was hoping that the men would arrest the ring leaders today and it would be over.

Ninon greeted her with a hug and a sweet for each of the children, her mood clearly lighter than on her last visit. "Is Treville here?"

"No, he is not. Can I pass on a message?" She lifted Jeanne onto her hip to stop her daughter from attempting to climb up to their guest's hip; giving her a firm correction.

"Many families are back together again, but I wondered if he had any hope of finding the others; the ones who went missing before?" Clearly the men hadn't told her too much, Maggie knew Jean often told her more than others would.

"I don't know, I will have him come up to talk to you."

"Athos didn't think he could convince the King to invest the time, I thought perhaps Treville would; like he did with this matter." Ninon had a soft smile and she wondered how the woman had tried to convince Athos to persuade the King, Jean had said there had been a connection between the two.

"It could be a very challenging endeavor given we do not know where they were taken or what happened to them."

"Families need closure, that must mean something. Your influence over your husband is well known, the man adores you; if you were to ask..."

"I'll not push my husband into something he doesn't want to do. I will ask him if it is something he can pursue." And she didn't appreciate the implication that she would. He had already done a great deal to stop what was happening and responsibility for it did not sit on his shoulders.

"Thank you. Have you not found her home?" Ninon nodded towards Florence.

"I am having a hard time communicating with her, the men have tried but she is afraid of them. She is not from around here." Maggie admitted, eyeing the woman who helped Marc shape loaves.

"Perhaps I can help." Ninon shot her a bright smile and sidled over, the woman spoke in words she didn't understand, and Florence gave her a confused look; Ninon tried again.

Maggie didn't stay to watch, she didn't even know how many languages Ninon knew; but it looked like she would try them all. The woman had been famed for her education, and her enlightened beliefs, if it was a language barrier she had the best chance of cracking it; Maggie wondered if it wasn't related to the ordeal the woman had been through.

Suddenly Ninon sat straight up, and Maggie turned, Florence replied but she had no idea what the woman said. Still she crossed to the table to listen, hoping it would be translated for her. The two women spoke rapidly, and Maggie pulled Marc off his perch and shooed him off to play, not wanting him to interrupt them.

Finally, Ninon spoke in French, much had been learned in the last few hours. "Florence is Spanish, her father is carriage master to the King; she was sent to marry man in France and never made it. Maggie it is horrible."

"It explains a lot." Maggie winced, she had not considered her words before speaking. "When was the marriage to take place?"

There was an exchange between the two she didn't understand, and the answer came that it was about two months before. Ninon rose and crossed to her. "What does that tell you?"

"How robbers in France connected with men from Spain, I need to tell Jean; the odds of finding the other women are still slim but we may have a far more powerful ally on our side." She thought of the spirited woman who had climbed up to sit on the bench beside Jean, and as she thought on it she realized he needed to know sooner rather than later. "Will you watch the children?"

"Where are you going to go?"

"To the hunting lodge, where the King and the musketeers are heading; with the Spanish Queen." And heir, but that was for her only, she would not betray her husband's confidences.

Maggie mounted the horse and set out on the road to find her husband, the hunting lodge was over an hour away, but she would move faster than the King's procession did. She would meet them on the way, speak to her husband and return home. She took the pistol with her other weapons as there could be problems she didn't anticipate but she set out at a quick pace.

The horse loped along, and Maggie kept her eyes peeled, this would be over someday and the sooner the better in her mind. She knew the route well, it was a straight shot south, and the hunting lodge was only rustic to the King who was used to grand accommodations; it was easy to see. Riding it alone however was very different from travelling with Jean.

Finally, she came upon the party and yielded to the side, waiting to spot Jean, the musketeers recognized her and she knew word would spread. As the procession passed her husband appeared out of the woods along one side of the road and she realized he had been riding as a scout.

"Maggie, what is it?" His tone was brusque, and she knew he was in a hurry.

"Florence is from Spain, she was sent to be married to a French man, Monsieur Devaiou, she never made it. Her father is in the King's service." Maggie explained quickly and saw his eyes light; she knew it would make sense for him.

He gestured for her to fall in with him and they caught up to the Kings riding at the head of the party and she realized they hadn't known he was riding as an escort. "Sire, please excuse my intrusion. A couple months ago, the daughter of a man from your court went missing. Did you have any knowledge of this?"

The King frowned, and nodded, glancing furtively at the King Louis. "Monsieur Castile has been a loyal attendant of mine for many years; I dispatched a unit to recover her. They were unable to do so."

"Did the guards return to you?"

"Of course, they did." The man blustered, Jean nodded and lowered his head.

"Sire were those guards part of your escort to Paris?" Maggie reigned her horse in a few paces behind Jean's as her husband waited for the man's answer, it didn't come, and she realized he didn't know. "I have no position to advise you and no place in the court of France but as a soldier and one who has seen men go wrong I believe you have dangerous factions in your ranks only encouraged by the civil unrest in your country."

"You sent men into France without my authority?" Maggie glanced at her horse's whithers, of all that had been said the only thing King Louis grasped was Spain had crossed the border without their knowledge.

"I did not intend them to cross the border and did not know they had until it was done. I do not understand the relevance."

"Devaiou is a rival to a local magistrate, the later has been suspected in illegal dealings. His prospective wife having convinced her escorts to spirit her away rather than enter the marriage would have caused him the petty discomfort his rival enjoys. Your ranks are made of little more than mercenaries and they serve you because you pay; not out of loyalty. If offered more by your enemies I don't doubt they would turn, but better to farm out the work and be paid on both sides. The men who abducted your wife may well have been given a young woman as payment for their troubles and your loyal attendant may have given any information he had on your travel in hopes of recovering his child."

"They failed, and they are dead, what concern is this now?" King Philip demanded, looking irritated by his suppositions but Maggie could follow his logic. Some had failed, and some were dead, the ring leader was still alive and quite possibly had men to do his bidding. "We are in the middle of a hunt, my men can protect my son."

Jean nodded and eased back, she could see her husband was irritated by their continued lack of concern but knew better than to argue. She hid her smile, her husband hated to argue and only did it when actions would not be enough; generally, he had far more effective methods.

They fell back, he was easing to the side again, and as the Infante drew up he reached for her reins. "Give me your sword and the pistol, fall in beside the child and stay with him."

"If he doesn't want company?" There was no reason an entitled eight-year-old would want her tagging along beside him on an exciting hunt.

"The men will help you with that." He answered, holding out his hand and reluctantly she relinquished her weapons, not offering the dagger strapped to her thigh; Jean didn't ask for it.

Maggie eased her horse into the procession and fell in beside the boy as Jean disappeared off the road again. The boy wasted no time in questioning her presence. "Who are you?"

His French was near perfect and Maggie couldn't deny being a little impressed; she had no hope of speaking Spanish with him. "I'm Maggie."

Before the boy could respond Aramis called from his position up ahead. "Hey, Maggie, how's the Captain doing?"

"Treville's not your Captain any more." There was just enough growl in Athos' voice to be convincing and she realized the men had arranged this, they had both seen him only a moment ago, but without the uniform the boy would not have recognized a man he had never met.

"Treville will always be my Captain, doesn't matter that he got too old to fight any more." Aramis said cheerfully, knowing full well he could get in the jab as Jean intended to stay invisible.

"Careful, I'd argue that Jean's not that old." Maggie cautioned, inserting herself into the banter. The child's mother had known Jean on sight, had the boy heard stories of the musketeers from his mother who had been protected by them in her youth?

"You are Maggie Treville?" The boy's words as much a statement as a question. "You fight?"

"Yes." She smirked, that was of more interest to him than her husband's past exploits? Perhaps the boy figured Jean did not tell her of such things.

"You know how to use a sword and fire a pistol?"

"I do, my husband taught me when we were first married. The skills have served me well more than once." Maggie explained, thinking her husband intended her to use them again.

As the hunting party broke from the procession of baggage to begin the hunt the boy fell quiet, focused on handling his horse. Maggie was thankful to be on one of Jean's horses, the animal would obey in the middle of battle, it was handling fine now.

An animal was sighted, and the party stretched out, the two King's pushing forward in pursuit and the guards raced to keep up with them. Maggie stayed with beside the boy, the men melded with the other guards and when she looked around she saw only Spanish guards; she knew Jean wouldn't be too far away either.

The road forked suddenly, and the boy's horse spooked, Maggie jerked her reins roughly to force hers to follow and kicked the animal to catch up. As the path turned and she lost sight of the boy she heard shots, it could be the hunt, but it was too close.

Maggie rounded the bend as the horse was crumbling under the young boy, as she drew alongside. There had been two shots, but there were no more as she pulled the boy from the dying animal. Had Jean been trailing close enough to them?

No, as she glanced back a rider appeared from the bush behind them; apparently, he'd only had two shots handy. "We can't stay on the trail."

"Where are my guards?" The boy tried to peer around her.

"You lost them on that sharp turn, most of the guards were ahead of you or with the carriage heading for the lodge. Now off we go." She knew Jean was somewhere, and that he would come for them; she needed to hide the child.

"I don't want to." And now she had a small spoiled scared child to try to keep alive.

"Okay, we are getting off now." And barely stopping the animal as she swung down, an arm wrapped around the child's middle; he didn't have a chance to argue.

She had no doubt Jean would retrieve the horse somehow, but she could hide better without it. Without a sword or pistol she was better to try to hide the child and wait for Jean and the men to find them. If they kept running the men had to catch up to them.

Maggie pulled the child with her as she cut into the trees, putting a little bit of distance between them and the trees and then hide. Finally, they came to a huge old tree, the roots were exposed and the cave it created looked handy. "C'mon in."

Before he could whine in protest she had stuffed him in and followed. It was tight, and dark but she could see out and the ground cover obscured them. Maggie didn't care who this child was, she needed to keep him alive and all she had was a dagger; as he started to protest she clapped her hand over his mouth.

Only a few moments passed before two men passed their hiding spot, both mounted and moving slow in the undergrowth. Maggie watched nervously, sliding her dagger into her palm; it wouldn't take them long to figure out that there was no trail. If they were cornered she had to fight, to stall.

The men were barely out of her line of sight before they turned back, and she winced; they weren't stupid. She had only a few moments before they realized where she was hiding, as they drew closer to her hiding spot Maggie waited for the last moment to lunge out. She wasn't about to get trapped in that hole, the child stayed hidden as Maggie took off running; drawing them away.

Maggie tripped and tumbled to the ground, twisting onto her back as a sword was thrust at her, the second man looked on silent; she had seen him before. "The child?"

Maggie didn't get a chance to answer, both men shifted uneasily and from the shadows Maggie saw her husband appear. The sword was jerked up and out of the man's hands; Porthos was behind him. "You alright Maggie?"

"I lost the horse."

"Don't worry, Aramis will find her." Porthos grinned at her as he relieved the man in front of him weapons. "Where were you hiding?"

"You two can talk strategy later. Where is the Infante?" Her husband cut in, and she smiled as she took the hand he offered.

It took the sight of both soldiers and some coaxing to get the child out of hiding and onto Porthos' horse. The men were tied up and draped over their own horses, Jean hoisted her up behind him. They rode cross country, in the bush the man Maggie recognized tried to escape.

She heard her husband snarl as he swung down and caught the man by the scruff of his neck to haul him back. There was a brief scuffle that Jean ended with a swift blow, hauling the unconscious man back to the horse. When he settled back in front of her she noticed him rolling his bad shoulder; it bothered him sometimes.

Maggie rubbed it gently, knowing he would shrug her off before they met the King's party; thinking of her conversation with their son that morning. He didn't have to be here, and he hadn't had to do this, but it was Jean's way and they had to explain that to Marc. They had been gone the better part of the day, he had been upset when Jean left, and she hadn't taken the time to tell him anything when she had.

There was uproar at the hunting lodge as they cut through the gardens, Jean shook his head as they rounded the hedge. The Spanish King was in full rant and a cluster of women consoled the sobbing Queen, Maggie didn't see to many of the musketeers, but Aramis stood near the side with her horse.

Jean said nothing as he let his horse amble up, their two prisoners followed with Porthos bringing up the rear, Maggie watched over his shoulder. The King locked eyes with him. "You, you said this would happen. Where have you been? The searchers have gone out."

"I am not in the King's service." Jean's tone was low, she knew how dangerous that was and saw their own King looked nervous; he'd heard that tone the day Jean had left his service. "I was looking for my wife."

"Wife?!" The man spluttered as Jean dismounted, ignoring his anger as he ground tied the two horses on lines behind him before reaching Porthos.

He said nothing as he lifted the child from the horse and set the boy on his feet, Maggie hid her smirk as silence fell. The child was immediately embraced by his parents and Jean said nothing as he returned to the horse. His hand rested gently on her leg a moment and she leaned back to let him mount. "Maggie stayed with your son when your guards did not, my wife is a capable woman."

"She can fight Papa." The grubby little boy added, face still buried in the King's fine clothes; she wondered if the child had ever been so dirty before.

"I see." The man spoke silently, looking up to Jean who was already turning away.

"The child's horse died, my wife's is available; I've friends in the garrison who will see the mare returned to me." Jean spoke quietly before turning and heading out, not waiting for dismissal.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

Treville knew he needed to leave before his temper rose, this entire mess had been entirely preventable, but the royals had not wanted to listen to sense; and risked a child's life. He would leave Athos and Richelieu to sort out the details, he'd pieced together enough pieces to figure out the motivations. If Athos didn't see the connections or leverage France could use he knew the Cardinal would.

As they rode along the road he felt Maggie's hands begin to rub his shoulder again and he smiled a little; he didn't need to tell her to he was hurting. It was a long ride home and he didn't have the energy to hurry, content with the feel of her nested in behind him.

It had been his choice to disarm her and send her with the Infante and that would have turned to guilt quickly had she been hurt. But the Spanish soldiers would have protested a musketeer hanging around the child and they did not know enough of the French court to know Maggie was just as effective.

He hadn't needed to say to much and that was the way he liked it, actions spoke louder than words. It was done now, the court couldn't ignore what had been dropped into their lap without creating an international incident and Porthos, like his wife had recognized the magistrate's man and that would be proof enough to shut him down; the second had once been employed by the Spanish army and dismissed because of the color of his skin.

Maggie's hand slid around his middle and he felt the press of her cheek against his back. "Are you tired?"

"A little, it has been an exciting day." She murmured, her words muffled in his coat. "At least the Infante is alright."

"Hm, once he has a bath I am sure he will enjoy sharing his story; but he was gone long enough to give them a good scare." Treville hoped it was one they would remember.

"We've given Marc one, and we can't blame him; he's already lost so much."

"No, we can't, but the boy has to understand." And in truth he was glad that Jeanne Claire was still to young to really understand it.

"No one's taught him Jean, the boy doesn't know his father; he hasn't seen it." Maggie murmured softly as they turned onto the road that would take them home.

"I'll talk to him." Though he had no idea how he was going to explain it.

…

She had expected the house to be busy but instead it was quiet, Sarah had arrived and sent Ninon home in her usual way and Maggie was grateful. Tired and grubby she didn't want to deal with visitors and somehow Sarah didn't count. The woman spoke her mind and had a sense of when she was needed.

"You two go and wash up, there is water on the stove." Sarah instructed, taking one look at her, Maggie had no doubt she'd looked better. "Florence is lying down; poor thing had an upsetting day what with all the questions that woman was asking."

The children watched quietly from where they sat, a pile of blocks between them. She gave them a quick smile and headed for the stairs, Jean detoured for the water and climbed up behind her.

Finally taking a good look at her dress Maggie sighed, she was a mess and looking at Jean she was thinking it was going to be laundry day tomorrow. "Stop thinking Maggie."

"I'm just tired Jean, its been a long day." She turned as he unfastened her laces. "That poor child."

"The Infante will be just fine. King Philip will have to deal with the dissent in his military and address his edict's influence on it." Jean pulled off her filthy dress and left her standing in her shift.

"What edict? I know there are bad people everywhere but why in France…" Maggie trailed off, he hadn't asked, why or even what motivated the men, she knew the Magistrate's man was being paid.

"Men can be turned, an accident in France and a war with our nation could force the King's hand on reviewing his edict concerning the moors; he'd need men to fight." Jean spoke as though that explained everything, her look of confusion must have spoke for himself. "Maggie, the King's expulsion of the moors cost many their livelihoods, homes; some of those men were soldiers."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

Treville had watched as his wife settled Jeanne Claire on her hip and headed straight to the kitchen, Marc followed as a quiet shadow. The child was watching him carefully and he watched as the child buried his face in her side, arms wrapped tightly around her middle.

It wasn't long before Maggie was tucking Jeanne Claire into bed and he went out to do evening chores, he came back and found Marc still sitting at the table, Maggie smiled at him. "Someone wanted to wait for you to come in."

"How about I take you upstairs Marc?" He held out a hand and shot his wife a look; bedtime was her domain.

He understood the child's fears, Marc had already lost his parents, never knowing one and today he and Maggie had both taken off on him. They boy changed into his night clothes and crawled into the bed; Jean eased his hip down onto the edge.

"Why did you have to go?" Marc asked quietly.

"Because it is the right thing to do." He winced, that was not a good explanation for a child. "Marc, there are different ways people live, and in every way there are choices we make. That means choosing to look out for our neighbors, and our women, to be honest and to do these things even when it is hard; that is living honorably."

"But you can do that right here."

"I can, but you've heard what was happening here, and you know what happened to Mama."

"You stopped it."

"Because I know how to fight, I trained for soldiering since I was smaller than you. But our neighbors, our friends here aren't soldiers. They are farmers, and tradesmen, they do what is right in different ways. The farmers here provide food for many, they are quick to help their neighbors like Sarah came to help Mama, and they work hard for their living, but they are not fighters. For me what is right is to protect people, I will never be a farmer like Lorne or Sarah, but I can keep them safe." Gently he brushed the child's hair away from his forehead, this little boy knew all to well what the price of honor could be.

"And making those choices may mean I have to go away, it may mean there is a day I never come back; but it is better to die as an honorable man than live a coward. Your father was an honorable man, more than I can ever tell you, and he made a hard choice, but in soldiering he saved countless lives. He would want you to grow up to be an honorable man too."

The little boy nodded seriously and Treville gave him a quick smile before rising and blowing out the lantern by his bed. The stairs were dark but he saw the feint glow under their bedroom door and knew Maggie had come upstairs, his wife was likely exhausted after the day they'd had.

He'd just stepped through the door when he heard the quick thumps of bare feet and turned as Marc collided with his leg; small arms wrapping around him. "You're an honorable man too Papa, I will be like you."

Treville couldn't respond as his throat tightened at the boy's words. He rubbed his back for a moment. "You best get back to bed Marc."

"Come on, I'll tuck you in." Maggie intervened and led the boy away.

He wasn't used to that, any of it but then his only experience with children was these two. Jeanne- Claire was still too little and it was hard with Marc, he didn't want the boy to forget his own parents and yet he didn't want to hold him at a distance either.

"He's proud of you and so am I." Maggie murmured as she returned, and he felt her press against his back.

Treville turned and pulled her around his side. "I don't know how to explain things to him."

"You do just fine, he looks up to you and you are his Papa in all the ways that matter, you tell him about the father he can never know." Maggie murmured, snuggling into bed as he changed for the night.

Not two minutes after he laid down they heard Jeanne Claire's cries. Maggie rose, and he wasn't surprised when their toddler ended up tucked into Maggie's side. By morning both children had taken over the bed, their toddler had most of the space while Marc had Maggie's pillow and slept on her knees; his wife was pressed snuggly against him on a narrow piece of the bed and the pillow they shared.

…

Maggie was happy to spend the morning at home after the excitement of yesterday. A part of her knew that soon the King would come for Jean, especially after yesterday; they wouldn't be left out here to live in peace.

When Sarah arrived at the house and told her that there were soldiers on the road Maggie wasn't surprised. Sarah was like an early warning system, and settled Jeanne on her hip, clearly not planning to leave before she found out what was going on.

Not too long after she heard the door open and Jean crossed to her. "I'm going to Paris, if I am not back tonight I will spend the night at the garrison."

Maggie nodded, the King must be returning to the palace, she wondered if the Spanish royals would be heading home. Marc was quiet as he helped her and Sophie hang laundry before escaping to find some branches to whittle. The day passed slowly for all of them. Florence went down to

The children didn't like going to bed without seeing their Papa, but she knew if he did come home it would be well past their bedtime. Maggie could admit that she didn't like it that well either and stayed up late baking. She knew her husband well enough to guess that he wasn't going to spend the night away if he could avoid it. It was late when Jean came in, he went straight upstairs first and then came back to the kitchen. She knew he had hung his weapons and coat away, probably checking on the children before coming back downstairs. Maggie set a plate on the table, she knew he wouldn't have eaten much, his arm slid around her middle and she was tugged down into his lap.

She let him eat in peace, though she wanted to know what had happened today. He was here, and he didn't seem to angry or injured but the King could be unpredictable. "Are we returning to Paris?"

He sighed. "At least part time. I should have left all this alone, we might have been able to have a quiet life out here."

"That's not who you are." Maggie kissed his cheek lightly. "That's not who you are teaching our children to become."

End

Thank you to everyone who took the time to review. There may be another story in this series later on.


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